


Forget Me Not

by actualjohnwatson, blue_pointer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Bucky is not a princess, Curses, Don't worry, Extreme sports like scaling sheer rock faces, Fluff, Here comes Tony Stark, Let's just all agree in advance, Long Hair, M/M, Oh shut up, People who are not as young as they look, Prince Sam, Prisoners in towers, Sam the magician, Thor is a horse, Watch out Flynn Ryder, You know Pierce is the bad guy, bruce is the best bro, not really - Freeform, the smoulder, we'll explain later, why does Tony always get foreign objects stuck in his chest, winteriron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualjohnwatson/pseuds/actualjohnwatson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: What if Tony was a wily cat burglar? What if Bucky had lived his entire life in the isolation of a high tower hidden deep in the forest? Evil wizards, curses, magic golden limbs, medieval clockwork technology, and fairy godmothers are just a few things you'll find in this winteriron fairy tale.





	1. Steal Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daring rogue Tony climbs the sheer rock wall of a high tower to see what's inside to steal. It must be something amazing to be tucked away so carefully, right?
> 
> Cursed, Bucky has lived in the tower for almost as long as he can remember. Only someone wicked...or very very stupid would break into a wizard's tower. So which is Tony? And what is that thing on his face?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither Tony nor Bucky are underage. However, because of Bucky's isolation and a particular spell that's been placed on him, he both looks and acts younger than he is. That's why we checked the underage warning. 
> 
> I hope you give us a chance in spite of that.

Bucky is alone again. He’s used to that. But it always hurts the most right after Father Pierce leaves. It’s remembering what it’s like not to be alone that’s the hard part. But he’ll forget again. He always does. 

Sighing, he puts the last washed dish up in the rack to dry and sets about scrubbing the table. It was so nice not to eat alone… But now he can eat in his room again. Maybe he won’t leave his room for days. No one can make him; there’s no one here.

After he finishes the table, Bucky moves further into the tower, into the dark. The darkness is his companion. He doesn’t like to go near the window. There is only one window in the tower, so it’s easy to avoid. The window is temptation, a sharp reminder of everything he had to give up, to save it. And that hurts to look at.

The only good thing the window ever brings is Father Pierce. And now he’s gone again. Bucky sighs. Maybe if he takes a bath, he’ll feel better.

  
  


Tony has been watching the tower for a few days. Candlelight has burned and then been extinguished. And he'd watched the man leave the tower alone. No more light.

He could disassemble the door hidden behind tall shrubs in the front of the tower quite easily, but he didn't bring the tools.  _ Too easy. _

So he’ll climb. What’s up there? Who is that man? Is he a monk? A priest sent to live in solitude? What is he hiding, and can it be sold? All questions need answers, so he starts to climb.  

  
  


Bucky steps into the bath. It doesn’t bother him that there’s no light here. He doesn’t need it; he’s memorized every inch of the tower by feel, and his eyes are getting better and better at seeing without light. 

The water is warm and soothing. He fans out his hair and stretches out, floating in the water like the last person alive. He might as well be.

  
  


Climb he does. It’s a long way up, longer than it looked, and when Tony pulls himself through the window, he’s quite winded. He has his satchel and pulls out his canteen, perched on the windowsill like a cat. 

Tony lowers himself in. No reason for rushing and missing any of it. He snoops around for a candle, not wanting to drain his own supply.

  
  


Bucky has been alone long enough to know what not being alone feels like. There is a very specific feeling. Maybe it’s the vibrations of someone’s footfalls he feels in the water. Maybe it’s a sixth sense. Either way, he sits up abruptly. Did Father forget something? He should hurry. Hurry, hurry, before Father gets angry. 

Bucky bolts from the water and grabs a towel, hurries down the hall toward the window room. “Father? Are you back?” But it’s quiet. And Father Pierce usually calls him when he gets home.

  
  


Tony glances at the window. No. That's death. So he dives under a table instead, swearing under his breath. People were not supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here. 

Naked man. A naked man is definitely not supposed to be here.

 

Bucky has the towel wrapped around his waist by the time he gets to the window room. But Pierce isn’t there. “Father?” He walks slowly around the room, long wet hair dripping a river of bath water behind him. “Fath--” As he glances out the window, something feels wrong. Bucky quickly pulls the blind, making the window disappear to outside eyes. Why hadn’t he done it earlier? He’d forgotten! But he hadn’t expected anyone would be looking…

He backs away from the window with a bad feeling. “Please, you shouldn’t have come here. It’s not safe for you. Please go. I don’t want to hurt you…” Bucky hovers at the edge of the hall, afraid for whoever it is. Don’t they know that to enter this tower is certain death?

Hurt him?  Tony has more questions. Why? How? "But you're naked." Stupid mouth, getting away from him. But then he wonders how long it's been since he's actually spoken.

It’s...a man? No voice Bucky has ever heard before. Clutching his towel around him, he takes another step back. “What--that--” Would he kill people sooner if he was naked? Father has never explained to him quite how the curse works. “I was in the bath,” he says, defensive. “You should go. Please.”

Tony tentatively crawls out from under the table, slinking along the wall, further away from the window.

Bucky gasps, terrified when a figure emerges from under the table. He takes another step back into the dark hallway. “Don’t--don’t come any closer!” he warns.

Tony needs to get a closer look at this person. "Why?"

Why? That’s an odd question to ask. “W-well...I was feeling lonely, and I like to keep clean…” Why else would you take a bath?

Tony's almost impatient. "Got it. But why do you want me to leave?”

Bucky’s clutching the towel in front of him now, trying to get the maximum coverage on the side where the stranger is. “Because I don’t want you to be harmed.”

Ooh, he's shaking in his boots. "Harmed by what?"

“By...by me. My curse.” Surely everyone knows this? “I’m cursed.”

Tony wrinkles his brow. "What curse?" Impossible. There are no such things as curses.

“The curse.” Doesn’t everyone know about the curse? “If I don’t stay here, it will infect the land.”

"Um. With what?" Still feels fake, but he's going to keep talking just to see how far this goes.

“With the curse, of course!” Can he be serious?

"Okay, great, I got that. What curse?" Jesus. How many times can he ask this question? "What does the curse do?"

“The curse that will bring death upon the land! Destroy every living thing!” Does he have to spell it out?

"Do curses actually work? Because I've been around, and I've never seen an actual curse before." Are there people that believe in such things?

“Of course they work!” What kind of buffoon doesn’t understand magic?

“Why are you threatening me when you're naked and unarmed?”

“I’m not threatening you…” But he supposes he’s still naked. “And I have two arms!” Though Father had tried to remove his magical arm, he just hadn’t been powerful enough to do it.

“What are you going to do, snap the towel at me?" Tony's casually searching the room for a candle. So dark.

“Snap the…?” _ What is ‘snap a towel?’  _ Bucky flicks it away from himself, trying to make it snap. Unfortunately, it’s not much good for coverage that way. The gems on his magical arm glow softly in the dim light. Maybe he should have covered that with the towel…

His eyes catch on the light and Tony's wide eyes get wider.  _ What is that worth? _

Why is the man looking at him like that? Bucky feels strange. He’s too close. He can make out some details of the man’s face now. “What’s that on your face?”

Tony smirks. It's his goatee, clearly, but- "You mean my lips?"

Bucky frowns. “I’ve seen lips before.” He touches his, to make sure they’re still there.

_ Pretty. _ Tony blinks at him slowly. "What's your name?"

“I don’t--you shouldn’t ask me that. Go away!”

His eyebrows knit together. "Why won't you tell me your name?"

“Because--” Father had said he was to be nameless now. To keep the curse from catching up. “I don’t have one,” he finishes, lamely.  

Tony smirks again. "Whose name will I beg for mercy when you're threatening me with that towel?"

“I’m not--!” Why is this man making fun of him? This isn’t a game! “I’m not making you beg...with the towel!” He  can’t even snap it.

Tony blinks at him. "Excuse me?" Even urchins give themselves names. He's starting to worry that this one’s simple. But, on the other hand, he can easily trade himfor whatever that is on the man’s arm.

“You can’t have my name!” Bucky spits. “It’s...personal!” And names have power. This must be a sorcerer to get past all of Father’s traps.

"Okay okay! It's private! What do I call you then?" Because he's not leaving. He’s stalling.

“I don’t...know.” No one’s ever asked him that before. There’s never BEEN anyone else before.

“Who is this man with no name and the beautiful adornment?" And can he have it?

“A-adornment?” Bucky feels for his necklaces. Oh no, he took off all his jewelry before he got in the bath. “What do you mean?”

"What's that other man call you?" Anything?

Bucky squares his shoulders, bravely. “I can’t tell you that.”

Tony blinks at him again in the semi darkness "Why not? I want to call you something."

Bucky shrugs. “Then I suppose you must think of something.”

"How long have you been here with no name?"

Does that mean how long has he been here, or…? “Since...I was small.” He doesn’t remember much else.

"What is that?" Tony indicates the gold sheath over the boy’s left arm. Why is it glowing? Can he touch it? What's it do? He takes a step forward. 

“Nothing!” Bucky quickly throws the towel over his arm, revealing other things. “Go away!” The man looks like he wants to come closer. “What are you doing?” Bucky turns and runs down the hall, naked behind disappearing into the darkness.

"Whoa there." Now that's not a sight he sees everyday. Tony follows, listening to the footsteps and swiping a candle and a match.

Bucky runs to his room. He needs to hide. Seeing no better option, he throws the towel down and dives into his bed, pulling the blankets up over his head. Surely the man will come to his senses and leave.

Tony lights the candle and slinks along after him. "It's nice to be able to see, right? Were you taking a bath in the dark?"

“I don’t need light to see!” Bucky calls back.

Tony rounds the corner. He's on the bed. In the bed. But it doesn't look like an invitation. "What are you doing?" Not that he  _ wants _ an invitation.

Bucky’s head appears above the sheets. “What are you doing in my room? Get out! It’s...it’s...unseemly!”

"Is it? Why?" He's had this conversation before. Plenty of times. Just never with a man.

“You can’t just come into someone’s room!” Wait, doesn’t that go for the whole tower? “My father will come, and...and we’ll both be punished!” Though Pierce has mostly been kind to him, Bucky knows he wouldn’t like this. 

"I saw him leave. How long do we have until he comes back?" Surely they have time.

“He could be back at any time.” Which is true. Besides, why would someone ask that? “I doubt your intentions! You’re both foolish and possibly wicked! Now go!” Bucky hides under the blankets again.

"I'm certainly not foolish.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. He’s not so sure about that.

“Possibly wicked, but I'm mostly curious.”

“If you’re wicked, then you should definitely go!” Bucky slides out of bed, forgetting about his nudity, and raises his magical arm to strike at the wicked sorcerer. “You are not welcome here!”  

Tony raises his eyebrows, curious. Naked. Still so naked. "Relax! Relax." He takes a cautious step forward. It reminds him of a skittish horse.   _ Let me pet your nose, pretty pony. _

“Why should I relax?” Bucky asks. “You’re the one invading someone else’s home!” Why is he coming closer? Well, this time Bucky refuses to back down. He’ll strike the man with the strange face if necessary.

"You told me I should run because I could be hurt. When you said it, you sounded scared. And now you’re threatening me? What's your deal?"

“You said you were wicked!” Bucky puts his hands on his hips. “And you refused to leave, so you must be up to no good.”

Hands in his hips. Naked. It's cute. Or something.  Tony smiles, charming and slow.

Bucky doesn’t like that look. It makes him feel...funny. Inside.

"Do I look wicked?”

“Yes!” If ever he’s seen a wicked man, this must be it. And it explains the funny feeling.  

“Maybe just mischievous."

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Mischievous is the same as wicked where curses are concerned.”

"You certainly know a lot about curses. And I'm supposed to be the wicked one?"

Bucky huffs, thrusting his chest out. “I know about curses because I have one! And you are wicked. I can tell.”

He raises an eyebrow. "A real curse?" Yeah right.

“Of course a real curse! Have you ever seen an arm like this before?” He raises his hand, jewels glowing, casting a shimmering kaleidoscope of color on the ceiling above.

An arm? Tony's eyes go wide, wide and he reaches to touch it. “You mean it  moves on its own?"

Bucky withdraws, cheeks burning. “It moves like an arm. When I want it to.” Why does the beard man keep trying to touch him?

"No but I thought-- isn't it just decoration?"  Beautiful. “How does it work?”

“Of course not!” Bucky flails, showing it works just a regular arm.

"It's not...over your arm?" Now he needs to touch it.

“No! I told you. It’s my arm!” Bucky sighs, walking away to find clothes. If the man is going to keep staring like that, he wants a shirt on.

"Your arm. What is it? "

Bucky looks at both of his arms, surprised. “What do you mean? It’s an arm.” Obviously. “Anyway, you still didn’t say what that is on your face.”

Tony rolls his eyes. "If you tell me what's on your arm, I'll tell you what's on my face.” He grins, “I'll even let you touch it."

Bucky glances down at his left arm. “I--I don’t--it’s magic.” That’s what’s on his arm, to put it simply. He huffs at the man’s offer. “Why--why would I want to touch your face? I don’t even know you!” And Father Pierce would certainly be unhappy about Bucky touching anyone else. But it does seem to be a handsome face, now it’s closer.

"You were asking." Tony's not backtracking exactly. He's trying to flip everything around in a way that's not his fault. "So I offered."

Bucky glares. “I asked what it was, not if I could touch it.” Suddenly he realizes he’s naked again, and reaches back to snatch the sheet. “Um.” He covers himself again.

"It's hair on my face. A beard. You shave." Doesn't he? Oh. He's not...naked anymore.

“What is shave?” As Bucky asks, he’s reaching out for Tony’s beard. But he stops himself. He’d said he didn’t want to touch it. And he didn’t! Until now.

The stones-they’re mesmerizing. He wonders if it’s some kind of clockwork, but he controls it like an arm? Fascinating. “Your arm is so beautiful. Must be worth--must be priceless." That's not helping his case. "What's it for?"

Bucky holds his left arm, turning it away from the wicked man, protectively. Does he want it? Why? “It’s...not for anything. It’s my arm.” Should he tell him about the accident? No. Who is he? He doesn’t have a right to know.

Tony follows, grabbing the arm this time. It's an accident. He wants to see how it works. Take it aPart.

“What!?” Bucky jerks around as he’s grabbed. Shivers. “Don’t,” he begs, moving closer to try to wrest his arm away. The strange man is so close. His arm should be warm to the touch. Isn’t it burning him?

"It's not your real arm," Tony observes. Ludicrous. "It's something else." Right? But not clockwork. Not a gold plated prosthetic.  Something else.

Bucky frowns, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s...it is my arm, only...not the one I was born with...but it’s mine now.” He pulls his arm back out of the man’s grasp.

The beard man leans casually against the wall, unperturbed, watching him. Now that he’s so close, there’s something about the shape of his arm under his shirt. Bucky looks at his own arm. His arm doesn’t look like that. “Just how did you get in here, anyway?”

"Climbed up." Tony preens.

“Climb--But it’s a sheer rock face! No one can climb that!”

"I can." He smirks, a cat with cream.

Bucky’s brow krinkles. “How?”

"Lots of practice." And strength and preservation and determination.

“Practice climbing sheer rock faces?” It must take a lot of strength. Bucky turns his head, trying to see what other muscles the man might have that are different from his.

"You climb one you've climbed them all." Tony shrugs, complacent.

“No one’s ever climbed it,” Bucky insists. “No one.” But maybe that was because they feared the curse.

"I'm a cat burglar.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “You burgle...cats?” He straightens up. “There are no cats here.”

"I take--" He glances at the arm. "Expensive things. Beautiful things. Not cats."

Bucky turns away again, guarding his arm. “You can’t take part of a person. That’s...that’s vivisection!”

“They call me the scarlet fireball." Or they should.

“Who does?”

"Um..." Tony hesitates. Nobody. "Law enforcement."

“The sheriff is after you? Oh, you are wicked.”

But his eyes look less disapproving than they did before. In fact, they look the way many girls’ eyes look when they find out Tony’s a wanted criminal. Curious. Maybe even interested. He decides to test his theory. Tony smirks again. "You can touch me. My beard. ...if you want."  

Bucky shyly, hesitantly reaches out again.

He’s a naked man. Is this weird? It should be weird..."Can I touch you?"

“What?” Bucky stops, fingers frozen in mid-air. “No! Why?” He clutches the sheet to his chest with both hands.

"Not sure." So therefore it requires more experimentation. "I think I want to. Why did you stop?"

“You think--” That doesn’t even make sense. “I stopped because...because it’s--it’s rude to touch strangers. Besides, what if it kills you?” He would feel bad...wouldn’t he?

Magic isn't real. "I'll take the risk."  Tony reaches for the other man’s shoulder, wanting to pull him closer.

“Wh-why?” That seems awfully reckless. But if he wants to, now Bucky’s a little curious. He holds still, waiting to see the man’s hand disintegrate as soon as it touches him.

"Not sure."

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

"Oh I'm aware. It makes completely no sense at all." But it doesn't stop him.

Bucky’s forehead crinkles. “Then why do it?” But he’s not protesting. Maybe he should be. Not that this man would listen if he did.

"I think I want to." Maybe he should hesitate. Maybe he should stop. But it feels...it feels like he's speaking to a beautiful woman. It feels like he can convince her--him--to lie down with him. He's not sure what to do after that, but they'll figure it out. Tony will.

“...oh.” He wants to touch him? But no one touches him. What if...what if it’s nice?

Tony wants to know why he wants to touch the youth so badly. Now that he’s closer, the boy is beautiful--his eyes are. Tony takes his hand and pulls it closer to his cheek.

Bucky finally gives in and brushes his fingertips against the man’s beard. “Oh!” He pulls his hand back in shock. “It’s...it’s rough!” Like a porcupine on the face. He’d expected it to be soft, like hair.

"What do I call you?" It's a whisper. Tony's played the virgin like a fiddle game before. This is different though. Different in a way he's not sure he can explain.

“I don’t…” Bucky realizes he’s whispering, too, and it’s ridiculous. “I don’t care. Call me what you wish.”

Tony reaches to touch his face. Whispers again. "Can I call you...sweetheart?" Something gentle.

The man’s rough hand on his cheek makes him feel dizzy. “Sweetheart?” Bucky’s heart leaps in his chest. Isn’t that an endearment? How would Father feel about that? He’s starting to feel strange. Bucky reaches up to snatch away the man’s hand on his face, and swoons.

He's little bit mesmerized by those wolf eyes. Tony leans closer wrapping the other arm around his shoulder. "Come. Come here, mouse. Sit." He takes a step closer to the bed.

Bucky clings to the stranger, feeling all of his muscles beneath his clothes. But if he doesn’t hold on tight, he’ll fall. So he lets the man lead him to his bed, sitting down on it, sagging against him, his right arm clamped on his shoulder for balance.

"What happened? Huh?" Tony murmurs, still clutching his hand, the other resting near his thigh. Close, but not to close.

“You...make me feel strange,” Bucky murmurs, trying to wake back up. So dizzy. What’s that smell? The man? He smells sweet...and spicy.

"Sweet mouse. Let's sit and I can hold you." He inches his hand closer to the other man’s thigh.

“Hold me?” Bucky’s voice is faint. It almost sounds like a request. He grabs the sheet and tugs it up to his chin, still leaning against his muscular companion. “You make me feel…” Bucky inhales deeply. The scent of him is making him dizzy.

It's good. Tony’s hands drifts close, landing on thigh covered up with sheet. "Feel what?" He prompts.

Bucky shivers. “Why are you touching me?” Nevermind that he’s the one leaning on Tony.

Tony’s nose is pressed against his hair and neck, and he clings a little tighter to the youth’s hand.

“Stop,” Bucky gasps softly. Why are his lips so close?

Tony’s eyes drift closed. He can't bring himself to stop. It's like...magic? Maybe. "Something about you. So beautiful."

“Wh-what?” Bucky’s cheeks feel hot. He’s beautiful? Oh, is the man falling asleep? Look how bushy his eyelashes are. He reaches up to brush his fingertips against them.

Tony whimpers. Everything feels so good. But the gentle fingers most of all.

Bucky gasps softly, pulling his fingers away. “Did I hurt you?”

"No." Tony grabs his wrist. "It's nice. Don't stop."

“Oh.” Their faces are so close now. He can feel the stranger’s breath. Bucky sags against him again, resting his cheek on the man’s shoulder. Why does he make him feel so weak? “I-I just...wanted to touch them…”

"You can touch whatever you want." Tony whispers. And he means it, leaning into his mouse's wet hair.

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to whimper. “No, I--thank you…” He’s not going to touch any more. If only he could stop this dizziness, he could pull away, let the stranger go.

Tony sighs and pulls him closer. Just for a moment he'd thought. But he smells so good and he's starting to want so much.

Tony moves his arm around his waist. Holding him with just the sheet. So warm. Feels so good. What would more feel like? His heart stutters at the thought.

Bucky’s brain is short-circuiting. All of these feelings. The man’s arm around him. “Stop,” he gasps. “I can’t breathe!”

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" Can he really not breathe? Tony drops him like he's a hot pan.

Bucky flops over on the bed, breathing hard, his skin still tingling from where the stranger was touching him. He brushes his hair back, trying to get back under control. “No one ever--I think I might be allergic to you.” Why else would he feel so strange in the man’s presence?

"I think it's just animal attraction." Like magnets.

“But we’re not animals,” he says, still panting like a fish out of water.

He's never felt this compelled to touch another person. No woman. Not this way. And he's curious. Extremely curious. Tony touches his hair, gently smoothing it down. "Like a magnetic field. Like I'm stuck to you."

Now Bucky feels self-conscious. He hadn’t even washed his hair yet. It’s just wet, like limp pasta. “I like…” he closes his eyes. “I like how your hands feel.” They’re different from father’s. Wait. What’s a magnetic field? “Stuck to me?” That doesn’t sound nice. “I’m sorry.”

Tony pets him more. Restraining from touching the rest of him. Just until he calms down.

Bucky lets his eyelids flutter shut. It almost feels like the man is putting him to bed for the night.

"No no. Don't be. I like you.”

He likes him? Why does that make his face feel hot again? Bucky clutches his cheeks.  

“I wish--" he shouldn't. Bad. Bad Tony. "I wIsh we were closer."

“Closer?” Bucky opens wide, innocent eyes. “You mean...friends?” He’s read about friends.

Tony swallows. "No. I--yes! Yes definitely friends.”

Bucky smiles up at him. “I always wanted to have a friend.”

"Honey, you’re breaking my heart." Tony leans down to kiss his forehead.

Bucky looks concerned. “I’m sorry.” He pets Tony’s chest, soothing. “Can it be mended?”

Tony blinks. "You've never left this place have you? Not ever."  

Bucky shakes his head. “I thought to leave once, but…” It had ended badly.

“But I was thinking about other--private things." Oh god, so beautiful. Tony sits on his hands.

Now he’s curious. Bucky rolls over on his back. “Private things? Like secrets?” He knows about secrets.

"Secrets. I guess you could call some of it secret." Especially if he thought about the secret-no.

He grins conspiratorially. “Are you going to share a secret with me?”

"I want to show you so many secrets." But slowly. He's going to go slow.

Bucky smiles, excited. “I look forward to it.”

This is a very strange conversation. And there’s something that’s been nagging at the back of Tony’s mind. "How  _ does _ your father come to and fro?" There's no easy way to ask.

“Magic,” Bucky answers simply. “He flies.”

Tony stands back and wrinkles his nose. "No see that doesn't make any sense. Somebody flying like a witch or something out the window? Come on."

“Well I don’t know how witches fly,” Bucky says. “But Father does. Sometimes on his own. Sometimes with one of his familiars.”

"Flying people. It's fake. It's a trick. Nobody can fly."

Bucky huffs. “Are you calling me a liar?”

"No but I've never seen anyone fly before." So he's being deceived.

“If you wait by the tower…” But, no. What if Father were to see him? “Tonight. He should be back tonight. You’ll see him. You’ll see.”

"Tonight? Tonight like now?!" He startles away, scooting closer to the exit but not letting go of the other mans  hand. "I've got to leave if he's coming back now."

Bucky looks up at him sadly. There’s time. Father only just left. He won’t be back until full dark. But it’s for the best--for the stranger’s well being--if he leaves, the sooner the better. “I’m sorry,” Bucky says gently.

Tony bites his lip, watching those sad eyes. "Do you want me to come back?" He doesn't move any further away.

Yes. He does want that. “It--I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Bucky admits. “If--if you wish it.” He’s already proven himself quite brave.

"Then...I'll come back.”

Bucky almost smiles. He wants that.

“Do we have time?" There's something Tony wants to do.

He nods, still holding onto the man’s hand. “Time for what?” Maybe he should have asked that first.

Time for kissing. Just a kiss. One. Tony leans forward, brushing the corner of his mouth with soft lips. He sighs, stroking his mouse's hand with his thumb.  

A sharp intake of breath. Was that...a kiss? Bucky knows what kisses are. They’re how you say goodbye, aren’t they? He turns his face, kissing the bearded stranger properly. A good, firm kiss...until next time. He doesn’t understand why someone he doesn’t know is touching him like this, but it’s nice.

So this experiment has proven that there’s interest on both sides. A lot of interest. Still kissing him, Tony ponders what other experiments he should perform...

“Mm!” Bucky leans back, blinking at him. Isn’t this the part where he lets go? “Well...goodbye, then.” He keeps the sheet between them. He wishes he’d had time to put on clothes.

Tony pouts a little. He's pulled away. "Can you walk me back to the window?”

Bucky nods, wrapping the sheet around himself like a gown and leading the way down the hall.  

“Can you tell me your name now, mouse?"

“I told you,” Bucky smiles sweetly. “I don’t have a name.” He stands to one side of the window, admiring how the sunset paints a glow on the man’s face. “I’m the Asset.”

"That's what that man calls you." It's not his name. Tony perches on the windowsill. "You think of a name that I can call you." He chucks his mouse gently under the chin. "Alright, sweetheart?"

Bucky smiles, shy. “But what’s your name?” He looks so handsome in the orange glow.

"Tony." He smiles gently, offering his hand. "You can call me Tony.”

Bucky takes Tony’s hand in both of his, smiling. “Tony.” He bites his lip. “Sometimes...sometimes Father Pierce calls me...Bucky.” But only when he’s very very good. And rarely.  

Tony watches him carefully. "Is that...something you like being called?”

Bucky nods. “A...a little.” It’s selfish to want things. But it’s a name, isn’t it? “But I don’t mind whatever name you want to call me.”

"Bucky. If you like it, then I like it."

Bucky is fairly beaming now. Tony leans forward in the window and reaches to kiss him again.

What, another kiss? Bucky leans forward. He’s not used to so many. How can Tony’s lips be so soft and his beard so scratchy?

Tony traces his cheekbone with his thumb, not wanting to pull away.

Bucky smiles, leaning back. “Go safely, Tony. Remember what I said.” He hopes Tony is careful if he stays to see Father return.

"I'm coming back." Tony pouts, determined. "I swear. I'll be right down there. And I'm coming back. I'm coming back, Bucky."

“Very well, Tony.” Bucky smiles. “But, please. Be careful. Father’s terrible when he’s cross.”

Tony sighs. It's hard to leave. He trains his big brown eyes on the blue as he descends.

Bucky watches him, ready to catch him should he fall. But he’s so nimble and strong. He doesn’t need Bucky’s help. He sighs, leaning against the windowsill as Tony gets further and further away.


	2. Warm and Real and Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony returns to the tower with a gift for Bucky, and they spend the day together. But when Tony asks Bucky to leave with him, he finds out rescuing prisoners from towers isn't as easy as stealing jewels. Falling for another man should have been harder than this.

Finally, Bucky moves away from the window and wanders aimlessly around the house, cleaning things and daydreaming. He dries his hair and puts on clothes and thinks about Tony.

 

Under cover of the nearest trees, Tony is having trouble waiting. _Maybe a nap would help. No. No sleep._ Maybe if he takes a walk... But he doesn't want to stray too far. He wants to see this "magic" Bucky says is real.

So he pulls out his tiny clockwork bird and starts to work. So small, it fits in his palm. He hates working on it outside in case he loses pieces or dirt gets stuck in its gears , but he's got nothing else to do.

 

Bucky’s managed to lose all track of time when he hears the familiar voice outside the tower.

“Asset, I command you! Come to the window!”

Bucky is high in the tower, dusting books, but he comes running when he hears Father Pierce. “Asset!”

“I’m coming, Father!” He goes as fast as he can down the twisting stairs, trying not to fall. When he finally gets to the window, he’s out of breath.

“Why did you make me wait? You’re an inconsiderate child!”

“I’m sorry, Father. Are you ready?”

Pierce steels himself, straightening his lapels. “Yes. Proceed.”

Bucky extends his arm and uses his magic to lift Father Pierce up to his height, carefully floating him in through the window. “Good evening, Father,” Bucky smiles.

“Groceries.” Pierce plops the heavy basket down on the table and stalks off to his laboratory. “Why are there no candles lit? What’s wrong with you, boy?” Bucky quickly sends gems of light down the hall so that Father Pierce can see his way.

It’s strange now he’s met someone else to think Father might be a little unkind at times.

 

Tony hears the man before he sees him. Which is bad. Bad observation skills. Someone could sneak up on him while he's playing and rob him blind.

Awful. Yelling at Bucky. Tony purses his lips. If he had any idea what he was up against, Tony would tackle him right where he stands. How dare he?

But then. He's flying, and Tony's eyes go wide with wonder. He wants to fly! It's not that man’s own power keeping him in the air but Bucky’s!

Soon they're both out of sight again. Tony slumps down against a tree and waits, watching this time, so he won't be surprised and murdered.

 

Father Pierce seems to have completed his outside business for some days. Bucky eyes the food, calculating how long it will last. By his estimation, three or four days, depending if he’s allowed to eat or not.

As the days pass, Father becomes less and less cross, which is nice. By the end, Bucky is starting to think Tony was just a dream he’d had. A frightening, exciting dream that makes him sing sometimes.

Finally, it’s time to replenish supplies, and Father leaves for town again. He says Bucky has been good, and promises to bring him back a treat. Bucky lowers him down from the tower and watches him summon one of his familiars to ride away. He feels strange, and sits in the window, waiting. For whom, he’s not certain.

 

Tony gives Bucky's captor 40 minutes before deciding he isn't coming back. Longest three days of his life, really. But he'd heard Bucky sing. And it was beautiful. Now it’s time to see him again.

He waves to the figure in the window and blows him a kiss.

Bucky nearly falls out of the window when he sees Tony emerge from the woods. He waves back. What did he just do? Bucky’s not sure what that gesture is, but it’s alright. Tony’s coming. He’s back!

No use asking for a ride. Just seems rude, honestly. So Tony begins to climb.

Bucky watches him carefully. He’ll catch him if he falls; he doesn’t care that there will be damage if he uses his arm to help someone who’s not Father. But maybe...maybe Tony won’t need him to. His eyes are glued on the climbing figure, getting closer and closer.

Awful business. Such a tall, stupid tower. But what’s inside....maybe it’s worth the trouble.

“You’re so strong!” Bucky can’t believe he’s climbing so far with just his muscles and wits.

"Yup." Tony grunts. Shouldn't speak. "That's what happens when you scale tall buildings on the regular."

Bucky's impressed, even though he knows Tony got so strong being wicked. He watches Tony carefully, making sure he doesn't slip. If only there was something long he could throw down to help him, but Father got rid of all such things long ago. Bucky's hair is neatly braided today, which means it only falls to his waist. There's nothing for it but to wait.

When Tony gets close, Bucky leans far, far out the window, reaching for Tony. It may be dangerous, but he doesn't want to wait any longer.

"Honey, be careful!"

“You be careful!” Bucky calls down to him. Wait, did he just call Bucky a sweet thing? Oh no. Not a good time to get dizzy.

Tony doesn't remember it being so hard the last time. But then again,  maybe that's because Tony took his time. And this time, well maybe he wasn't so careful either. He grabs Bucky's hand and lets him help. Then he's got to sit down.

Bucky leads Tony to the nearest chair, a rickety wooden thing pushed up against a rough table he sometimes uses for peeling potatoes. Bucky hovers, wanting to be sure Tony is alright after making that stark climb.

Tony doesn't let go of Bucky, and then when he’s safe inside, he pulls Bucky close, despite the sweat and the red face.

Is this...what friends do? Bucky likes being close to Tony, but he’s not sure what to do with his arms. He stays just close enough that he can feel Tony’s body heat. “You came back,” he says softly, smiling.

"Mhmm." Water would be great right now. "I told you I would. I told you."

"You did." Bucky can't stop smiling.

Bucky looks...nervous? Something. "You alright? Somebody's treating you alright?"

Bucky nods. "Yes. I'm happy." Especially now that Tony's here.

"Good. You look radiant."

That makes Bucky feel embarrassed. He swats  gently at Tony, turning his face away.

There's no other word for it. "How long do we have? I have a gift for you."

"Usually until nightfall." His eyes light up. "A gift? Is it a secret?" Tony had promised him secrets.

"Kind of. It's not something I've shared with anyone else."

He leans forward, even more eager.

Tony looks down at his satchel, embarrassed. "It's not--don't get excited."

“Oh, but I am excited. I don’t get gifts often.” And only from Father.

Great. Tony's just going to disappoint him. "Okay...but breathe. It's not that big of a deal.”

“That’s not true.” Bucky slides an arm around his shoulders, leaning against Tony. “Of course it’s important. It’s from you!”

Tony turns and pulls the little bird out of the bag. It hasn't been painted and it's still a little wobbly but he's had nothing else to do for three days.

 _Oh, it’s lovely!_ A bird sculpture? Bucky tries to think of where he can put it that he’ll be able to look at it all the time without Father seeing.

He hands it to Bucky and when Tony claps, it unfurls its wings, sings a melody, and flies in a circle before landing again.

Bucky gapes as the little bird comes to life. Then he’s crying. “It’s so beautiful! I don’t deserve anything so fine…” He’s never seen anything so miraculous, much less been offered one as a gift.

"Hey, no, mouse, don't cry! It's just a silly toy." He reaches and pulls Bucky down into his lap. "You deserve better." So sweet. ...and now Tony can smell him. Which may or may not be a problem with Bucky sitting in his lap.

Bucky stops crying abruptly with a small cry when Tony pulls him into his lap. His heart is beating fast fast fast again, like when they first met. “Oh, Tony.” He puts a hand to his chest, trying to breathe. Maybe it would help if he got up. “What’s…” Maybe if he changes the subject. “What’s its name?”

Tony wraps his arms around Bucky's waist and laces his fingers together. He gets that echo-y feeling again. That this is what he would be doing with a beautiful woman, and he shoves it down.  

Bucky whimpers softly. His cheeks feel hot, and his groin... He shifts in Tony's lap, squirmy.

Tony gasps softly. Tightens his arms around Bucky's waist and leans his cheek against Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky glances at him. "Are you alright?"

"Better than alright." Things are starting to happen. And the squirming. Oh it did not help.

“Hm?” That doesn’t make sense to Bucky, given the noise he’d just made. He kisses Tony’s forehead and jumps up on his feet again.

"Now I just feel empty." Tony pouts, making grabby hands.

Bucky laughs. “Tony…” He reaches out to take one of the grabby hands.

"Maybe you could paint it, too. It needs a little color."

"I think it's beautiful as it is." He wonders if he has any paint left. Perhaps Father will bring him more.

"It's your gift, do what you like with it.  You get to name it, too.

"I'll name it Tony!" Bucky beams.

"You'll name it after me?" Tony scrunches up his nose. "No! It needs a better name."

Bucky pouts. "I like that name! And it will remind me of you when you're not here. "

"But how will we know who you’re calling?” Tony smirks. It needs a better name.

Bucky grins. “But I’ll be calling it when you’re not here. So...it will be like you’re here, when you’re not.” Because Tony can’t stay, and Bucky might miss him. But it will be easier with his gift. He’ll just have to think of a way to hide it from Father Pierce.

Comforting. "That's why I wanted to give it to you." Because the little bird is a piece of him.

Bucky brings Tony’s hand to his cheek, rubbing against it gratefully. “Thank you. I love it.” So kind. Surely he can’t be truly wicked?

So he's done something...valuable? Tony looks away. "I'm glad. I wish I could do more." He must be so alone here.

Bucky smiles at him. “Like what? You’ve already done so much.” In just a few days, he’s gotten a new friend and a wonderful gift. It’s the most he’s had in years.

Convince him to run away, for one thing. "Don't you--don't you want to have more?”

“More?” Bucky’s smile turns sad. “More Tony?” He brushes Tony’s cheeks with his fingertips.  

“This tower sure is...something but there's more out there."

“I know,” Bucky says. “That’s why I have to stay here. To protect everything out there.”

"You said that thing is dangerous? To who?" Because he'd touched it and was fine.

“Everything,” Bucky answers simply, then smiles. “But not you...so far.” It’s hard to be hopeful, but...

Tony leans forward in his seat, craving Bucky's attention but also curious. "Then tell me, how does it work? Who's it going to hurt? It doesn't hurt--me." Or the asshole brainwashing him in the tower.

“I’m glad it doesn’t...hasn’t,” Bucky corrects, smiling sadly. “If I leave the tower, my curse will spread across the land, killing everything.” He wanders back to the window. “Once, when I was young, I tried to leave.” He looks down at the ancient oak tree, once huge and vibrant, now charred and dead, a circle of brown the only thing beneath it. “It was terrible.” Bucky’s eyes burn when he thinks about it.

"What exactly happened?”

His eyes are distant. “The blight spread from my feet, as soon as they touched the ground. Everything around me...died.”

“What about your--father? Was he there?" _Did he do this to you?_

“Yes, he was there.” Bucky turns back to Tony. “He saved me...this.” He gestures to the forest. “Brought me back inside the tower before it spread further.”

"So he was there." _And he does magic. Yeah._ This isn't adding up. "What's keeping the curse in the tower? Can't you bring it with you?"

“Father Pierce built the tower to contain my curse.” He nods. “Bring...the tower?” Bucky tilts his head, confused.

"So what contains the curse? It's not just the tower. What's inside the tower?”

“The spell is built into the tower itself. Into the stones and...structure. I think.”

“Why am I not affected?" Come on, Bucky.  Tony needs to get you out of here.

Bucky bites his lip. “I don’t know. Perhaps...perhaps because you’re inside, and so the tower protects you, too.”

"So he has magic books or something?" Tony could figure that out. He hadn't found a subject he was unqualified for.

Bucky thinks. “He has a book of shadows…” The other books seem to just be books. Bucky’s read a lot of them.

Tony swallows. Just talking is fine, but he wants to touch more. "Do you have--is there a couch here?" The bed is too much. A bath would be wonderful but he's not sure he'd be able to control himself. But a couch he could touch Bucky. And kiss him.

“What’s a couch?” He’s learning so many new things from Tony.

"A chair with a double seat.”

What a strange concept, Bucky thinks.

“So you can sit next to me.”

“Oh. I can do that.” Bucky leaves to get another chair.  

“I want to touch you." Kiss him.

“Oh!” Bucky covers his cheeks with both hands. Why does Tony make them so hot? Bucky brings the extra chair over, shyly sitting down next to Tony.

He can do this. He'd like a proper couch, but this is fine. Tony sticks himself to Bucky, thigh to thigh. Better. A bit better.

Bucky smiles shyly, laughing nervously. “Is it like a couch?”

"Almost."  Tony reaches for his hand, leaning his chin on Bucky's shoulder. "I like looking at you." Especially all red-faced and virginal.

Bucky waves a hand at him, turning away with a nervous giggle.

Tony grabs the flapping hand and kisses it.

“Oh!” Bucky turns to him, wide-eyed, covering his lips with his metal hand.

Tony smirks, kissing him again--the inside of his wrist.

Bucky whimpers, shivering. No. His groin is feeling strange again… He clamps his thighs together and turns further away. Bucky just breathes, trying to be more calm. He’s embarrassed by his reaction.

Tony sighs, taking Bucky's hand and holding it in his lap. He'll try again in a moment. A book of shadows, was it? Oh yeah, that seems completely innocent. "Where is it? Your father’s book--have you looked at it?"

“In his workshop.” Bucky shakes his head. “It’s forbidden. I just dust it.”

"For you, it's forbidden.”

“Yes.” Bucky nods.

“Can I read it?”

“I’m...not sure.”

“Is it cursed? Not that I really believe in curses." Because why would he? Just because he saw that man fly and conjure a demon horse out of thin air...well, that doesn't mean anything.

“I don’t think so…” He’s never really thought about it before.

Tony stands up, eager. Should they do it now? "Do we have time?" Or can they kiss again? Three days he's waited. THREE.

Bucky stands, too. “Time for what? To look at it?” He glances out the window at the sun. “I suppose...if it’s just a quick look…”

Tony eyes him. "I don't want to be stuck in here when he comes back.”

Bucky nods.

“He'd probably think I was--well, it doesn't matter. I don't want to get strung up.”

Bucky looks anxious." I don't want you to be harmed."

“Maybe I have time for a bath.”

"A  bath? " That  seems to be a strange request. "If you like..."

"Next time? Next time you can show me the book?" Tony makes puppy eyes, begging.

“If you like.” Bucky nods. It’s nice to think that there will be a next time, at least.

"I camped in the woods for three days.”

“What?!” He’s shocked. “Why!? You were in the woods that whole time?” He was so close for so long, and Bucky didn’t even know.

"I didn't know when he would leave and I didn't want to miss you." But next time, he'll need to go home.

Bucky feels like he’s melting inside. Tony waited three days in the woods to see him? He takes Tony’s hand in both of his, pulls it to his chest. He’s not sure if he should weep or say thank you. Or tell him he’s mad. “You waited all that time...just to see me?”

"I didn't want you to think I'd abandoned you."

"Oh, Tony. I would never think that." Bucky squeezes his hand. "I know you have an adventurous life you must return to."

"...climb your tower, steal a kiss and then leave." Tony winces. How many times had he done just that to someone else?

Bucky chuckles. "You didn't steal a kiss. I gave it." What a silly idea.

That makes him feel a bit better. Tony smirks. "Will you give me another one?"

Bucky snickers. "When it's time for you to leave."

"I want you to come with me. I have to leave this time." Go home. Find something else to steal. Grab some supplies.

Bucky smiles sadly. "You know I can't." But what a thrilling thought! He's going to daydream their adventures now.

Tony nods. "I do. But someday you can. You will. You should be free to go and do what you please." He's determined. And when Tony's determined....

Bucky takes both of Tony's hands, smiling. "Are you going to break my curse?" It's just a dream, but it's a nice one.

"Yes." He says simply, resolved. Then he kisses Bucky again, just in case it helps break the curse.

“Mm!” Bucky makes a small startled sound at the sudden lips on his. “I--I wasn’t ready!” Aren’t kisses just for parting anyway?

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Do you want to try again?"

Bucky thinks about it. "Yes....when you're ready to leave."

Tony pouts, disappointed. More kisses, please.

"When you're ready to leave," Bucky tells him firmly.

"I'll never be ready." He pouts harder, eyes wide. Come on, Bucky, bite.

Bucky giggles. Tony makes him feel bubbly inside.

Tony sighs, dramatically. “Anyway, a bath would be nice.”

“Alright, I can--”

“Nicer if you would join me.”

Bucky gasps. “Tony!” He doesn’t know much, but he does know bathing with someone else is not appropriate. “I will not.” Besides, what if his groin acts up again? He chews his lip, trying not to think of Tony shirtless.  

Tony grins flirtatiously.

Bucky whimpers, holding his cheeks because they’re too hot again. Why does Tony’s face make him feel so funny?

"If you're sure, but the offer still stands."

Bucky looks away, fidgeting, thinking. “If you’d like help, I can scrub your back.” He does that for Father. “But that’s all.” That way he can see Tony shirtless.

Tony pats his thigh. "That's fine." Tony touches his red cheek, gently, chaste. "I'm just teasing you."

"Oh." So Tony doesn't want him to scrub his back? He stands. "The bath is this way." Bucky walks down the dark hall, expecting Tony to follow.

Tony follows close behind, reaching for Bucky's hand in the darkness.

Bucky lets Tony take his hand, gesturing with the other so the gems on the wall light up so he can see. The bathroom is all onyx, tiles and bath. Bucky turns on the faucet and goes to get candles so Tony can see.

Tony watches the lights on the wall with wonder, and sadly watches Bucky go.  He strips and sits on the edge of the bath dangling his toes in.

Bucky returns to Tony's buttcrack. "Oh!" He turns away quickly, almost setting his hair on fire. "I brought...candles."

"Hey thanks." Tony turns back to Bucky's red face. "Come keep me company."

Bucky whimpers softly, managing not to set himself on fire as he slinks around the room, setting candles down and lighting them, all the while keeping his back to naked Tony. Finally, when he’s done, he settles on the far ledge of the tub, facing away. “The um--the faucet...you can just turn off when it’s deep enough for you.” He pulls his braid over his shoulder, nibbling the tip.

"How are you going to wash my back if you can't even look at me?" Tony submerges slowly. Feels good.

"Um. I...I will..." Hearing the water sloshing, he glances over, grateful that Tony has some coverage. Slowly, he turns around, trying not to peek.

Tony leans back in the water, eyes closed, and sighs content. "Feels good to be clean."

Bucky laughs softly. "You're not clean, you're just wet." He passes Tony the jar of bath sand.

Tony takes it with both slippery hands, looking up at Bucky. "Thanks, sweetheart. It smells fantastic." He wonders if Bucky would wash his hair if he asked.

Bucky smiles, pleased. "I like mixing the scents." He has to amuse himself somehow.

Tony sets the sand on the step and leans with his head cradled in his arms. "What's this one?"

"That's sandalwood and rose hips." Does he really want to know that? Bucky can't not stare at Tony. How are his eyelashes so thick?

"'S nice.”

“Thank you.” Father never comments on the scents unless he dislikes them.

“Can you wash my hair?”

“But you don’t have any!” Bucky teases. Wash someone else’s hair? He’s never done that before.

Tony sticks his tongue out, running a hand through it. Making it stuck out on end. "I don't have as much."

“No.” Bucky snickers. “Mine is longer.” He thinks he’s pretty funny.

Tony suppresses a wicked grin. "I wouldn't know unless you showed me how it looks."

He giggles. Bucky pulls his braid forward, shaking it. “This is how!”

Tony strokes it. _Soft._

Bucky smiles at him. He doesn’t mind Tony playing with his braid.

But even though it's beautiful and smells nice...."Does it get longer?"

Bucky completely misses the joke. “No.” Bucky shakes his head. “I’ve never cut it. This is just how it is.”

“I want to smell like you." Something about the warm water. Relaxing. Tony’s mouth is running away from him.

Bucky doesn’t know how to respond to that. “W-why?”

"Because I'm not sure when I'll see you again." And that's depressing.

Bucky’s face falls a little. “I hope...I hope you can see me again. Someday.” He puts his arms around Tony, hugging him from behind.

"I'll be back in a week." At least.

A week? That’s not so long. “Truly?” Bucky leans forward to look at him.

"Maybe sooner. Promise.”

Bucky hugs him again, feeling better before he lets go.

“We need a marker. Some way to signal if he's here or not."

“If he’s gone, I’ll sit in the window,” Bucky says quickly. “Or tie a white ribbon.”

Tony nods in agreement. "Just...be careful. Alright?"

Bucky nods, smiling with his hands tucked under his chin. He’s not afraid of Father. Finally, he goes to fetch the hair ointment. When he returns, he kneels behind Tony, unscrewing the jar. “Duck down, first. Get it wet.”

Tony ducks down, taking a moment to just float in the water before popping back up.

Bucky blinks at everything that’s floating there. Then he hides his face. “You...I think you may be a scoundrel.”

"You do?" He's smirking, eyes closed. "Why is that?"

“You know why.” Bucky shoves Tony’s shoulder, gently.

"Haven't a clue. Fill me in." Fun to tease. Fun to flirt with. What's happening to him? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. No need to think about it now.

Bucky shakes his head. “Bad.” He gets down to business, combing fingers through Tony’s mussed hair before taking some hair ointment and working it into his scalp, slowly.

"You like me anyway." He thinks Bucky likes him. He wants him around. That's nice.

“Yes I do.” Bucky pretends to be distracted with hair ointment, glancing away shyly.

Hands in his hair. Tony whimpers. This is a new experience. And Bucky... Bucky's a new experience.

Bucky’s fingers slowly work up the lather, massaging Tony’s scalp, getting every strand soapy. He kisses Tony quickly on the cheek at the whimpering, then stops to rinse his hands in the water. “You can wash now,” he tells him.

Tony takes his time rinsing out his hair. Floating in the warm water again. Less to show off and more to relax this time. This is a luxury. Maybe Bucky's only luxury, and that makes his heart break.

There are soap suds in the water this time. Not as much of Tony shows...sort of. Bucky still glances away. Still too late.

Tony sits up and takes the sand, breathing it in deeply before asking, "What's your favorite flower?”

Bucky shrugs. He’s seen paintings of flowers, but not many in-person. “Father brought me irises once. I liked those.”

Not interested in flowers. Check that one off. “What do you enjoy? Do you read?”

“Yes, I do.”

New books. He can bring Bucky those. “Paint?”

“A little, when I have colors.” But he doesn’t make pictures with the paint.

"Do you have any paint now? Would you like some?"

“I don’t...if I have some, I can paint Tony.” Bucky demonstrates by dipping a finger into the wash sand and drawing a circle on Tony’s bare arm. _Wow. So muscles._

"You want to paint me? Or on me?" Tony watches him. The urge to kiss him is very strong.

Bucky giggles, taking his finger away. “No, the other Tony!” He thinks he’s pretty funny.

"The bird?”

“Yes!” He laughs.

“This is why we need different names." Miffed. Kind Of jealous

Well whatever. He’s better than that bird. “Do you play music? I heard you singing."

“Oh.” That’s embarrassing. “You did? All the way out in the forest?” Bucky ducks his head. “I like to play music, but Father takes the instruments away when he’s cross. I don’t have any now.”

"Can you read music?" Tony's so distracted by the need to give Bucky things that it takes a moment for him to absorb what he'd said.

“No.” Bucky shakes his head. He just teaches himself to play by ear.

"Why would he be cross with you, sweetheart?" Bucky's like an angel.

He shrugs. “He just is sometimes. Sometimes me, sometimes other things.”

Tony scowls. "What a dick."

“No?” Bucky looks confused. Don’t look at the--too late. He glances away, guilty.

"What instruments can you play?" Tony asks, trying not to focus on the abuse.

He thinks. “Guitar, mandolin, lute, flute, pipes, harp, and banjo.” Those are the only ones he’s had to try. “And snare.”

"Wow." If Tony wasn't already ridiculously infatuated with him..."That's impressive.”

Bucky shrugs. He doesn’t know about impressive.

“What's your favorite song?"

“Um…” He thinks. “I just play things. I make them up.” Bucky shrugs. “Whatever song I’m playing.”

"I hope you can play for me." That would be lovely.

"I'll play for you." Bucky smiles. "If I have an instrument again." Maybe Father will bring another.

Tony frowns. It's cruel to be treated that way. Abuse, that's why he ran away in the first place. "When you come with me I'll give you anything you want." He's so gentle. Even after he's been treated so badly.

Bucky laughs, sad. "If you break the curse, I'll come with you." But he's not getting his hopes up.

"That'll be a piece of cake when I look at the book." Bucky deserves better.

That sad smile is still on his face. “I hope it will.” Then he suddenly realizes: “Oh, Tony.” Bucky touches his cheek. “Should I wash your...what? Beard?”

"Don't stop touching me, Bucky. Please." Too good. It feels too good. Tony leans into the touch, nuzzling Bucky like a cat.

This makes Bucky giggle. That's not a thing people do. “Alright. I’ll wash your back.”

"How old are you?" The question seemingly comes out of nowhere, but he's curious. Why doesn't Bucky have any hair on his face?

Bucky withdraws his hand, looking anxious. This is a hard question for him. "I know I have ten years..." But that's just from when he started counting. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. You've gotta be older than ten." He isn't a child. He acts mature. He looks…He looks to be of marriageable age, at least.

"Yes." Bucky nods. 22...he's taller than Tony. That must mean... "I'm 23."

"We'll go with that." Tony leans over and kisses Bucky's cheek.

That makes Bucky smile. Now he has a real age he can be.

“Lean forward,” he instructs gently, going to find the loofah.

Bucky's going to wash him. Tony's excited. A little too excited.

He sets the loofah on the edge of the bath and sprinkles it with bath sand. Bucky runs a hand down Tony's back first. "So many muscles..."

The touch makes Tony shiver. "More. Please, more." And Bucky seems to like him?

"Shhh." Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. Why is he begging like that? Very gently, he starts to scrub Tony's back.

Tony’s body comes alive. Tingling and hot. How is he suppose to stay still? He sits on his hands. Bites his knuckles. Tries not to squirm. But this is the most intimate experience he's ever had. Bucky's not a woman. He hasn't even properly kissed Bucky. And yet.

Bucky laughs softly. Why is Tony so squirmy? “Are you ticklish?” _He_ is.

"Not...usually."

“But now?” Bucky pauses, pulling the loofah away.

"I wouldn't say it was really tickly." More sensual. Does Bucky know sensual? He's assuming no. Not even reading it in a book compares to this.

"No? What would you say?" He tilts his head, curious.

"That-that feeling you had when you couldn't breathe? It feels like that." He's assuming that's what it is.

"Oh!" That's scary. Bucky puts his hand over Tony's heart. "Can you breathe now?"

"Mhmm." No. All he wants to do is touch Bucky.

That didn’t sound very convincing. Bucky gives him the concerned look.

He reaches for Bucky's hand again. "Can I kiss you now?" If he doesn't soon, he's going to explode. Or he may explode anyway.

Bucky laughs, nervous. “In the bath? You’re silly!” He’s fine holding Tony’s hand, though, smiling shyly.

"Please?" He traces Bucky's jawline with his fingertips, then his cheekbones, and then the graceful line of his neck. He wants to bite it. Restraint. He's never been good denying himself these things.

Bucky closes his eyes, letting Tony touch him. It feels nice. Father touches him like this sometimes, but it’s different. With Tony, everything is different.

Tony cups his cheek, sliding closer as he tries again, gently brushing his lips against Bucky's. Parting them slightly.

Bucky pulls away, opening his eyes. “Tony, what are you--I said no.” He boops Tony’s nose gently, moving back.

Tony sighs sadly, laying his head on Bucky's shoulder and looking up through his lashes. That's a trick that generally works.

Bucky pats him and then pets his hair, not really looking at Tony. _Silly Tony._ “Should I shampoo your beard?”

"If you want, honey."

Bucky nods. “I’ll finish your back first.”

Being naked with Bucky was not his best idea. In a last ditch effort, Tony tries something he knows he shouldn't. "Do you want to get in the bath with me?"

Bucky sits back on his heels, thinking. “To wash you?”

"If you want." Tony twists his hands together. He aches for Bucky. This was a terrible terrible idea.

Then Bucky has an idea. He hops up and scampers to his room. There, he changes into shorts. Then he's back, walking shyly into the bathroom, bare-chested and bare-legged.

That gives Tony a moment. And he needed it. He's still not sure what he's doing. Why he's feeling this way. When he hears Bucky coming, he turns and nearly slips and goes under. "Hng!"

"Tony!" Bucky runs over to save him, plunging his hands into the bath.

"I'm alright, sugar. I'm alright."  But Bucky's holding onto his bicep, and he can't really complain.

“Be careful!” Bucky lets go of Tony and stands so that he can step into the large tub, his long, gangly legs plopping gracelessly into the water. He keeps his shorts on, sitting down and hugging his knees. “Should I finish your back?” he asks.  

"If you’re comfortable." It's going to be so difficult not touching himself.

“Okay.” Bucky nods, reaching for the loofah and sand again. “Turn around.”

He nods, stealing himself to behave. Tony crosses his arms over his chest, but his hands want to sink lower. And lower.

Bucky kisses him on the cheek before moving behind him, starting to scrub in gentle circles. With his free hand, he scratches Tony’s lower back under the water, trying to get all the old skin and dirt off.

"Can you--can you reach lower?" Tony tries not to whine. Bucky asked him not to, but he wants. So badly, he wants. His hands twitch. His dick twitches.

Bucky giggles. “Lower? Is your...is your backside dirty?” He lathers up the loofah again and shoves it below the water, gently poking at Tony’s buttcheeks.

His breathing is unsteady and Tony can't help himself. Needs to masturbate. He can't even feel shame over it. He's resisted this for as long as he could.

When Tony doesn’t respond, Bucky returns to his back, finishing up with a shoulder and neck rub. Tony’s suddenly much less talkative. Is he moving? Bucky glances over his shoulder and sees something… “What--are you alright?” Is he doing what Bucky thinks he’s doing?

Tony grabs his wrist and places Bucky's hand on his ass. He whines quietly, needing closer. It would feel so good with Bucky pressed up against him.

“Tony.” Bucky’s startled. Doesn’t he want to be alone if he’s doing...that? But. He’s never seen anyone else do that before. It’s...it’s intriguing to watch. He leans on Tony’s shoulder, resting his hand on the other one.

Tony immediately leans into the contact. He can't help it. "Sorry." But not that sorry because he can't stop.

Sorry? Bucky starts to squirm a little. Is he in pain? “Do you...should I leave?” Bucky feels like this is better done privately, especially if Tony is feeling sorry.

"Don't go, I want you here. Want you." Tony clutches him closer, needy. He doesn't stop. Tony's going to have to live with this. Its his choice, but it's not something he's happy about.

“Want me?” That makes Bucky feel funny. But he keeps leaning against Tony, watching what he’s doing. He shrinks against him a little, starting to feel things waking up in his shorts, too.

Tony leans back, buries his nose in Bucky's neck. He smells the soap mixed with something else, something clean and good. "Want you." He confirms. "Christ, I want you." Clutching him tighter, he whimpers, coming in his fist, gently brushing Bucky's neck with his lips.

Bucky blinks a lot at the show Tony just gave him. The gentle kiss is nice. “But I’m right here,” he says. Now the bath is soiled, and they should drain it. He moves back and climbs out, looking for the drying cloth.

Unsteady without Bucky behind him, Tony reaches for the ledge to hold on to something. "I want you because I think your desirable. Beautiful." Sexy, with his hair over his shoulder and his icy blue eyes.

“Desirable?” He only knows that word in terms of livestock or goals. Bucky grabs one cloth and lays another on the edge of the tub for Tony. He laughs, shy. “I’m not beautiful.” In fact, he feels ridiculous standing here with sopping wet shorts on.

Tony carefully steps out of the water, wrapping the towel around his shoulders. "You are. You're very beautiful, for a man." Or that's how he's going to explain what it is exactly about Bucky that makes him feel this way.

“For...for a man?” Are men not supposed to be beautiful?

"I've never wanted to kiss a man before.”

That’s confusing to Bucky. “You don’t like men?”  

"I like women." Has he ever even seen a woman?

“Oh.” What does that mean? “You can’t like both?”

Tony considers. "Yes, I suppose, but I never have before."

Bucky frowns. “What’s wrong with men?”

"Nothing, as far as I can tell. Especially if the man is you." Tony winks.

That makes Bucky smile. He’s easily charmed.

“Look, it's not an unusual practice, but it's unusual for me. I think you're extremely attractive. All I want to do is kiss you." He's not sure what's making sense to Bucky but he's trying.

That thought gives Bucky a little start. Excitement? Fear? “Oh.”

"I want--you make me feel--" Oh god, how is he suppose to explain it? "Desirable. You make me want to touch you in a way that makes me feel good here." He touches Bucky's bare chest.

Bucky smiles. Thinking about Tony makes his chest feel good, too.

"...and here." He brushes Bucky's groin. He's overstepping, but he can see the feeling is mutual.

“Oh!” Bucky scoots back quickly. He feels unprepared for all of this. Maybe he can read about it. Tony knows so much. He just feels...lost. “I don’t...I don’t understand, but--”

“Asset!”

Bucky’s head snaps around. “It’s Father Pierce!” He reaches for Tony. “Stars, but you must hide!” He tows Tony out of the bathroom, in the direction of the nearest hiding place.

And just like that, their little game is over. Naked and mostly wet, he follows Bucky blindly.

Bucky sprints to the small library where there is a chest with blankets he uses to read when it’s cold. He yanks the blankets out and gestures for Tony to get in. Then, he peels off his shorts and throws them at him.

“Asset, I command you!”

“Coming, Father!” he shouts over his shoulder. Bucky ties the towel around his waist. At least he’s wet as an excuse for being tardy.

"You’re lucky I'm not claustrophobic." Tony grumbles, stumbling into the chest and pulling on the shorts. Can't afford to be in his line of work.

“There’s no time!” Can’t he see Bucky wouldn’t do this if he didn’t have to?

He kisses Bucky hard this time, because he may never get the opportunity again if they're caught.

Now Bucky feels dizzy again, as well as panicked. He carefully closes the lid on top of Tony and stuffs the blankets into a closet before running to the window. “I’m coming, Father! I’m coming!”

“You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky leans out the window. “I was in the bath!” At the last minute, he sees the Tony-bird sitting on the table and tucks it into his hair. “I’m not dressed...should I bring you up first?”

“Of course, stupid boy. I’m not going to stand here all day holding groceries for your ungrateful self.”

“Yes, Father.” Bucky takes a deep breath and brings him up, trying to look like he would any other time. “Shall I put the food away first or--”

“Put clothes on. You look a mess. If you don’t take care of yourself, why should I?”

“Yes, Father.” Bucky hurries to his room, hiding the Tony bird among his clothes.

It’s a long day. There is cleaning and cooking to do, and each hour he worries if Tony will come out of hiding, or Father Pierce will find him. But he’s not interested in the small library. Those are just learning books.

 

Tony shuts his eyes. Focuses on his breathing and listens for noises, the quieter it is the more comforting. Eventually he falls asleep.

 

Finally, Father tucks Bucky into bed and retires to his laboratory to do work. Bucky waits until he hears the door lock behind him and then he hurries quietly to the library to check on Tony.

Startled awake by the sound of footsteps, Tony's terrified, hopeful that it's Bucky, but knowing that it might not be.

Bucky opens the lid of the chest and puts a finger to Tony’s lips. Quietly, he leads him back to the window, then grabs his bundle of clothes that he’d hidden away in the potatoes. “Don’t climb this time,” he whispers. Now they just need to move to the window, and then...part...maybe forever.

"Your going to fly me out?" Tony wishes it was under better circumstances.

Bucky nods, glancing back down the hall nervously.  

Tony pulls his clothes on over the shorts, purses his lips. "Don't forget to tie a ribbon for me. It might be a few days more." And then he'll be back.

This was too close. They can’t see each other again, and Bucky knows it. But there’s no time to talk about all that now. Tony will understand. Later. Hopefully. Bucky rushes up to him and presses himself against Tony, desperate. He kisses him, hard, like it’s the last time. Because it will be.

Oh! Oh, finally! Tony pulls him close, running a hand through soft hair, careful of the braid, and kisses the crap out of him. He doesn't want let go.

But they have to let go. Bucky pulls back, dizzy and panting, and aching, because now he wants something. And he can’t have it. “Goodbye, Tony.” He steps back, trying to memorize everything about that face. Then he raises his arm, carefully lifting Tony out the window and safely back to the ground. He waves from the window, feeling awful inside.

Tony turns, refusing to say goodbye. This is not the end, even though Bucky thinks so. Tony can tell by the look on his face. He can't even enjoy flying, and that's a crime in itself.

He blows another kiss. "I'll come back," Tony whispers in the darkness, turning towards home. It feels like he's leaving his heart behind.

Bucky imitates the gesture, even though he still doesn’t understand it. He watches Tony go, stares into the darkness long past the point where he has any sight of him.

When he turns around, Father Pierce is there. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Bucky recoils, nearly falling out the window. “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” He grabs Bucky’s flesh arm, and it’s hard to remember any of the good things he’s just experienced.


	3. Father Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony returns to the tower and a nasty surprise. With Pierce so determined to separate the lovers, what will they do?

It’s hard to know how long Bucky has been in the cell. With no windows, it’s difficult to tell time. He doesn’t feel Father has been regular about bringing him food, and he hasn’t eaten much of it anyway. It isn’t worth the pain of moving the shackles, and he feels horrible.

A lot of unpleasant things have happened to him since Tony left. One of the worst was after Father found bird Tony. He’d made a point of thoroughly destroying it in front of Bucky. How he’d wept. Pierce had promised to do the same thing to his friend. And there's nothing Bucky can do.

  
  


The white ribbon has been hanging in the window since the day the Asset finally cracked and told Pierce about it. And he’s been patiently waiting, curious to see what sort of opponent he’ll be facing. The sorcerer is not concerned; he’s looking forward to a bit of fun.

 

He’s been gone too long. It had taken Tony too long to find a job and too long to fill the request. Choosing books and paint for Bucky had been extremely fun, though, and he'd enjoyed it immensely. He'd gone home and packed soon after, taking a few days’ supplies just in case Bucky's captor was there when he returned. 

There is no Bucky in the window, but the white ribbon is hanging from the sill. Tony grins. Maybe he'll surprise Bucky in the bath.  

  
  


When someone crosses his wards around the tower, Pierce leaves off his studies and moves to the window room to see who their unexpected guest is. He waits in the corner by the fire, tucking himself into the shadows where he can see but not easily be seen. 

  
  


Bucky's not at the window, so Tony takes his time, hoping Bucky will show up. He pops through the window, less winded then last time. Quietly, like a thief in the night, Tony heads to the bath. As far as he can tell, he's alone. Tunnel vision. 

  
  


Well, this young man seems very comfortable here. Just how long has this been going on? Pierce emerges from his corner, moving to the end of the hall to block the man’s escape path. “Might I inquire as to the name of the thief who has been stealing into my home and coveting what belongs to me?”

Tony moves with his back to the wall; there's no way he's going to try and escape, and he wants to have some protection from behind. He reaches for his satchel. Tony doesn't want to use Bucky's gifts as weapons, but he will.

Pierce remains composed, hands clasped in front of him. If he feels remotely threatened by Tony, he doesn’t show it. 

_ Don't tell him.  _ Its Bucky's voice in his head. And he trusts it. "I can assure you that it's nothing that belongs to you." No. Bucky belongs to himself. 

"Now there you are wrong.” He takes one step toward Tony. “But come now. A man in your profession surely doesn’t believe his own lies about having noble intentions? You can speak frankly with me.”

Tony's not close enough to rush him, not yet. A few more steps. "If you ask me about what I do, the answer would be different, but he is a person and not an object. Much more valuable in spirit then whatever it is you've done to his arm is worth."   _ You think you’re so slick, you creep.  _

Pierce cocks an eyebrow. “You’re local, then. Good. I might let you live.”

_ Oh yeah, right. _ Any promise of that is complete bullshit.  He's just trying to make Tony talk, and he won't get any information.

Pierce extracts something from one wide sleeve. “I believe this belongs to you.” He tosses a crumpled bit of metal and gears to Tony, the remains of his bird. “What was that supposed to be? A love token? Really?”

Tony lets it fall, but his heart breaks. Bucky loved that thing. And he'd worked so hard on it. "Have you ever considered that your ‘Asset’ might be a human being? That he might enjoy things from the outside world?"  _ Keep it together, Tony. _

“You want to free him.” Pierce considers. “Maybe you do believe it. How...strange.” He walks toward Tony, magically binding his wrists behind his back. “Of course he’s human,” Pierce says, casually, walking past Tony down the hall and compelling him to follow behind. “That’s what makes him so unique.”

Tony sighs, annoyed at the magic-- _ stupid magic _ \--and follows as far down the hall as possible. "How long have you had him here?” Tony can ask questions. That's allowed.

"Longer than you think."

“Why would you take him?"

"Now, now, little thief. Answers like that will get you killed." He leads the way up spiraling stone stairs, and Tony must follow.

Little.  He doesn't like being called little by his friends, much less this guy. Doesn't he want to tell Tony his nefarious plans? That's how it works in adventure stories. "Where are you taking me? Is that too much to ask?"

“You’ll see soon enough.” They’re always so impatient to die. “It’s somewhere I think you want to be.” At the top of the stairs is another staircase. And another. Finally, they’re in a round chamber with no doors or windows or stairs. Pierce gestures, and a trap door in the ceiling opens. A glowing, bubbling water seeps up under Pierce’s boots and lifts him up and through it on a pillar of translucent liquid. Then the water disappears, and a ladder drops down for Tony. Too bad his hands are bound.

“What do you have to say to me today?” Pierce asks someone in the room above.

There is a croaking response that may or may not be words from someone who hasn’t had enough water or fresh air for days.

 

Rage. So much simmering rage. A thief deserves punishment. A murderer, yes, but not a sweet soul like Bucky, so like an angel. Suddenly free of his magic bonds, Tony climbs up the ladder and rushes Pierce, slamming into him. 

He was not expecting that. Maybe this will be fun! Tony’s body slam throws Pierce on top of Bucky, who’s little more than the clink of chains in the darkness. “F-Father?”

Tony’s hands aren't bound, and while pierce is down, he scrambles to take the paint canister out of his satchel and hide it behind his back. That way, if his hands are bound again, at least he can open the paint canister.

“It’s alright, my dear.” Pierce draws himself back up to a more dignified height. “I’ve brought you something.”

Bucky knows it can’t be good. “No, I don’t want it.”

With a gesture, Pierce lights up the room, watching Tony as his eyes take in his beloved.

_ Poor sweet angel.  _ Hollow eyes. Cracked lips. And bruised. The rage is bubbling out of Tony, and he slings the paint into Pierce’s eyes with great accuracy. But the paint freezes in mid-air, a blotch of color suspended in zero G.

“Blind me. Did you want to blind me?” Tony is immobilized as Pierce walks around him in a wide circle. “Temper, temper.” He looks at Bucky over Tony’s shoulder. “What do you think? I could take his eyes. Then he’d never have to look at you again.”

“Please don’t,” Bucky begs. “Just let him go. I’ll be good. Please.”

"That's okay,” Tony tries to keep his voice even. “It's alright, Bucky. I'd still know you as the most beautiful person I've ever seen." His poor sweetheart. He can't do anything like this. Can't comfort him.

Bucky’s expression is pure grief when he looks at Tony. He doesn’t want to remember him this way. Not this way. 

Tony turns hard eyes on Pierce, "You do whatever you want to me. It can't take away his value."

“Very well.” Pierce leans against Tony, as if he were a piece of furniture. Frozen like a statue, he may as well be. Tony’s skin crawls. If only he could pull away from the creep. “What shall we take from him, hm? Any suggestions?”

Bucky just shakes his head, mute, horrified.

“I have an idea. Let’s take you away from him. That won’t hurt, will it?”

Bucky’s not sure what he means.

“We’ll just take away whatever it was you did in your time together, and he can go on his way, happy as ever.” Pierce looks at Tony. “Sound fair?”

"What's the point?” Tony asks, horrified. “If you're going to do that, why can't you just kill me?"

Pierce looks quietly at Bucky. “Somehow I don’t think he wants that.”

Bucky is shaking his head, scared to death. “Don’t kill him,” he whispers.

“You see, Asset? I’m kind to you, aren’t I? It’s always better to have choices.” Pierce conjures a table and sits Tony down at it, a silver goblet filling with red liquid in front of him.

His hands once more bound, Tony nudges the goblet with his elbow. "I don't want it. Go away." It's childish. It's ridiculous, but he's stalling, soaking up Bucky time. Tony looks at him again. "Look at you. I want to take you away. You deserve so much better."

Pierce rolls his eyes. “You’re boring me.” He looks at Bucky. “You have five minutes. Then he takes the potion, one way or another.” He floats back down through the trap door.

Bucky tries to walk to Tony, but his chains only stretch so far. He ends up leaning against his shackles with his arms over his head, staring longingly at Tony.

Tony rushes towards Bucky, nuzzling his cheek against his neck. What he wouldn’t give to just touch him. "It's alright. It's going to be alright."

“No it isn’t,” Bucky says softly. Their time is so short. “I just want you to have a good life.” He gives Tony sad puppy eyes. “Will you promise me?”

With Pierce gone, Tony’s hands are finally free. He pets Bucky’s matted hair, kisses his cheek. "What weaknesses does he have? How can I best him?”

Bucky shakes his head. “You can’t.”  

“What would happen if I beat him over the head with this book?" Tony pulls out the book from his satchel. "I'm not done trying." Tony's going to beat Pierce with the book anyway.

“...a book?” Bucky’s curious. Did Tony bring him a gift? Oh, he’ll treasure it. Perhaps Father will let him keep it to remember him by.

"Yes, angel, I brought you something." He doesn't mention the paint, he knows how much Bucky must be missing his bird.

Bucky tries to smile. “May I see?” He leans against Tony’s hand.

Tony purses his lips, suddenly nervous in a way he can't really explain. "Sure." He holds the book up in front of his face.

Bucky laughs a little, but it’s hard. “You are…” He’s going to miss these things.

“What am I, hmm? Charming? Handsome? Smart?" He lets it fall in front of his chest, so he can show off his brightest smile, clutching the book tight in case Pierce comes back.

“I think so.” Bucky nods, watching Tony admiringly. “I want you to go out and have great adventures. Then...perhaps someday you can come back and tell me about them.”

"Listen. No stupid magic potion is going to keep me away from you. You hear me? Huh?" Because magic isn't real. It's not as concrete as the knowledge in his own mind. That's what Tony believes in.

Bucky nods. He’s just humoring Tony, but if it makes him feel better... Right now, Bucky just wants to enjoy feeling his touch for as long as he can.

He pulls out a water flask still half full and presses it to Bucky's lips. "I can't hold out any longer, honey. Please let me take care of you."

Bucky drinks. “But you are taking care of me.” He kisses Tony’s cheek with cracked lips.

"Hush now. It's not enough. How am I supposed to live without the other piece of my soul?" It doesn't matter now if he says exactly what he means. Bucky needs to hear the words, to keep them to replay later.

Bucky’s trying so hard not to cry. He wishes Tony hadn’t said that. Now he’ll feel even worse sending him away.

“Time’s up.” Pierce is back, wearing a long black cloak like the villain he is. “Are you going to drink it, or am I going to administer it another way?”

Bucky clutches at Tony, wanting to touch him as much as possible before he’s gone.

"Shh, sweetheart, shh." Tony holds him, kisses him gently. "I'll come back. I'll come back to you, I promise." Oh, his eyes are so beautiful, sparkling with unshed  tears. So sad.

Bucky tries to be soothed by Tony’s sweet words, his soft voice. But he knows what’s coming. “I like when you touch me,” he says quietly.

Tony kisses his eyebrow, standing on tiptoes. "All I want to do is touch you, mouse. Everywhere."

_ Gods, why does it hurt so much? _ “I feel...yes. The same.” Bucky strokes Tony’s cheek with bound hands.

In a last ditch effort to catch him off guard, Tony swings the book at Pierce, aiming for his temple. Murder is bad, but this is justice.

Pierce catches the spine in his palm, takes the book away from Tony to read the title:  _ The Solitary Virgin’s Guide to Copulation.  _ His eyebrows rise. “Oh, you are trying to take my precious gem. Well then.” He takes a fist-sized ruby out of his sleeve. “The hard way it is.”

Bucky gasps and keens, frightened. Seeing the blow coming, Tony tries to shield Bucky with his body, backing as far away as he can. "No. No no no-"

Then Father Pierce slams the jewel into Tony’s chest, and Tony’s mind is eclipsed by horrific pain. The ruby is the same color as the liquid in the glass, and after it embeds itself in Tony’s sternum, it starts to empty, taking his memories of the last three weeks with it.

Bucky clutches at Tony, trying to hold him as he scratches at his chest, watching the gem turn a cold blue. Is Tony screaming? His ears are ringing, and the pain alone is pulling him away from consciousness. He pushes himself against Bucky, looking up at him, scared and terrified, trying to burn those eyes into his memory before he passes out from the pain.  

Bucky holds him, and then he can’t keep it in anymore. He cradles Tony’s body against him, sobbing.

“You did this,” Pierce tells him. “If you had obeyed me, none of this would have had to happen.”

“I. DON’T. LIKE YOU!” Bucky screams, using the arm to fling Pierce across the room, slamming him into the stone wall hard enough to crack it. Then he goes back to petting Tony.

Across the room, Pierce laughs. Evil villain laughter. “Now that’s my boy.”

He lets Bucky leave the tower for the banishing ceremony. He carries Tony’s unconscious body down to the river, where they lay him in a small boat, like a funeral barge. Bucky tucks him in carefully, touching Tony’s cheek one last time before Pierce sends it off down the current.

When the boat is out of sight, Pierce turns back to Bucky. “Now. Let’s talk about your newfound interest in violence…”

 


	4. Where I'm Meant to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony washes up on a foreign shore and makes new friends. Too bad he's cursed. 
> 
> OR
> 
> The day Thor the magical horse met his arch-nemesis.

 

It's not that unusual for Tony to be disoriented and wake up somewhere new. But it is the first time he's ever woken up in a boat. Oh Jesus, what is that stabbing in his chest? He lies back immediately and tries to breathe.  _ Steady. Steady, Tony. _ He groans and opens his shirt. If there’s some kind of stab wound, why is he waking up?

He doesn't feel any blood, but he does feel something cold and hard. Tony lifts his head, trying not to throw up with the sudden movement.

The stone in his chest is beautiful...would keep him in room and board for a year or more if he could get it out--which he's not going to do. He's going to do some extensive research on the subject once he gets out of this boat and figures out where he is. As soon as he can get up.

After Tony crawls to shore and uses a tree to push himself up, he stumbles onto a road, literally, and makes his way to a village. A  _ large _ village...beautifully adorned with flowers and ribbons like they're having some kind of festival.

It’s beautiful, but strange. He's never seen these flowers or this architecture. A little girl runs past him in a flurry of petals, dropping flowers everywhere. Tony tries to pick them up for her, but the thing in his chest makes him double over when he reaches down. Rest...he should really rest.

The streets of the city are filled with color and music. Everyone is dressed in their holiday finest. The cobblestones are clean enough to eat off of. Everyone is smiling, dancing down the walks, celebrating. There are street performers of every kind, a different one on every block.

Most of the festival-goers edge around Tony with a nervous look, but one curly-haired man with spectacles perched on the end of his nose stops, looking down. He bends to offer Tony a hand. “What do you need? I’m a doctor.” He has kind eyes, a bit of grey in the hair at his temples, and a face creased with smile lines.

"Can you-" Tony reaches to pull himself up on the the man’s shirt with one hand and grabs the man’s hand with the other.

The doctor is stronger than he looks, and lifts Tony more than he lets Tony try to lift himself up. He loops Tony’s arm over his shoulder once Tony’s back on his feet, bearing as much of Tony’s weight as he’ll allow.  

"There is definitely something wrong with me." Tony’s not used to this, being carried.  It makes him feel weak. Tony shakes his head, trying to dispel the voice there. "Do you have an establishment?"

The man nods. “Come with me. THOR!” He horse-whistles, and a palomino-colored draft horse comes clopping over, pulling a cart of supplies. “Steady, boy,” the doctor tells him, helping Tony into the back of the cart where he tucks him in securely, draping a blanket over him. “Try to stay still. We’ll be there soon.” He climbs into the driver’s seat and snaps the reins. “Hup!”

The horse takes off at surprising speed for a draft horse. “Alright, showoff,” the doctor tells it. “Let’s just focus on doing our job right now, okay?” The horse whinnies a protest, but slows down.

As they pass the revelers, many people look up to smile and wave at the doctor. “Happy Festival, Doctor Banner!”

“Can I give Thor an apple?”

“Good day, Doctor!”

“My wife, she’s doing great now! Thanks, doc!”

The doctor smiles and waves at everyone, asks how their families are doing, promises face time with Thor for the children later. Just a few turns and they arrive at a funny building with a round door, almost shaped like a teapot. The horse pulls the cart down an alley to one side of it, and Banner climbs down to check on Tony. “Still with us, my friend?”

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I could have walked." He had walked all the way here after all. "This may be a funny question but uh where the hell are we? What country is this?"

“Oh, sure you could have.” Dr. Banner doesn’t look like he believes a word of it, gently helping Tony down and staying close by to steady him. “Welcome to Corona.” The doctor smiles. “You certainly picked the right day to come visit.” He turns to unlock the back door, which is curved but not round like the front one. He steps into a worn, used, and over-full workshop, more of an apothecary’s than a doctor’s on first glance.  

_ An apothecary shop? _ Tony swallows his nerves down. "Lucky me." Why is he so nervous? "You're a pretty popular guy here.” Tony sinks into a chair, grateful for it.

“Oh, I do alright. STOP RIGHT THERE!” He points suddenly behind Tony as the horse tries to walk into the shop. “To the stable with you.” The horse whinnies a protest, pawing the ground. “Just for now.” The horse snorts. “We have a guest! Mind your manners!” The horse wheels and stomps off, clearly upset.

It's a... house horse? Tony blinks from the doctor to his horse. What has he gotten himself into?

“Sorry about him. Anyway, I’m the only doctor left in town, so I keep busy.” He walks over and sits down in a dusty chair across from Tony.

Even if he is the only guy in town, Tony thinks, he seems pretty popular. “I'm guessing you're pretty good at what you do, doctor...?" Tony didn't quite catch an introduction.

The doctor runs fingers through his loose curls. “Oh, jeez. I’m always forgetting something. My name is Bruce.” He offers Tony his hand. “What should I call you, friend?”

"Tony." He takes Bruce’s hand and smiles a little.

“Nice to meet you, Tony.” Bruce’s smile is a bit sad. “Even if it is on today of all days. So what can I do for you…?”

"I'm having some issues. More than one. ...pretty weird issues."

“Why don’t you tell me about them? Unless--Would you like me to examine you first?” Bruce starts to get up, then realizes something. “Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like tea?” He stands and walks to a workbench, where he pours hot water from a beaker into a stoneware mug and starts hunting around for an infuser.

"Tea-" still makes him miss home and Jarvis. "Would be great.”

Bruce nods, finding an implement that will work as a diffuser and tossing in some tea leaves. He brings Tony the mug, still steeping.

“I'm having memory issues, for one. I went to sleep last night alone and woke up on a boat, fully clothed with a can of gold paint in my bag that I don't even remember buying, and nothing else. Not even my canteen." And that's not even the weirdest part.

Bruce looks concerned. He kneels in front of Tony and gently pulls his eyelids back, waving a small glowing rock to watch his pupils dilate. Then he starts a gentle scalp massage to see if Tony has any signs of a head injury. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

"Getting home from a job, eating a meal and going to sleep. Pretty typical evening." It's weird. So weird. He's anxious to tell Bruce the weirdest bit.

“And where you sleep, it’s secure?” Tony doesn’t show signs of head trauma but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have been drugged or poisoned by a business rival.

"Oh it's secure." Locks of his own invention on the doors and windows.    
  


“Did you eat or drink anything before bed?” There’s something Tony’s not telling him, but what is it? 

"Just a meal I prepared for myself. Nothing fancy. Tomato salad."

Bruce gives him an odd look but nods.

"What's with the decorations?” Tony asks.  “Is something going on, or have I stumbled into paradise?" Tony slaps his palm to his forehead. "I'm dead. I died in the boat. That explains so much."

Bruce looks at him, concerned. “Maybe food would be better than tea…” He moves to another bunsen burner and takes off a small aluminum cauldron of hearty stew. He brings it over to Tony wrapped in a clean rag. “I’m sorry, spoons are…” Bruce glances around the lab. “Scarce.”

Tony shrugs. "It's just soup." He can't afford to be picky. He wonders how differently his life would have gone if he was allowed to apprentice to a doctor or an apothecary instead of having to run away.

Bruce sits down across from Tony again, a puff of dust rising from the chair as he drops into it. “You asked about the decorations.” He clasps his hands, eyes distant. “This festival is a celebration of our lost prince. We call it Remembrance Day.” The doctor takes a deep breath. “He would have been 25 this year.”

Lost prince. Sounds like a good story. "Lost? Like stolen? With no ransom?" He wonders vaguely what the reward would be for something like finding a lost prince.

“Maybe.” Bruce pauses, looking away from Tony. “Statistically speaking, he’s most likely dead.” Bruce inhales. “But that’s hard for the people to hear, that a sweet little boy, the heir to the crown, was killed. Taken away in another freak accident, eaten by wolves, who knows?” He shakes his head. “So we keep his memory alive on his birthday.”

"So he's been gone a long time."  _ Damn _ . No ransom. "It's sweet that they still burn candles.”

“Oh, we do more than burn candles. But you’ll see.” He smiles at Tony. “I assume you plan to stay at least one night here.”  

"Yeah. I don't have any money to get home with. Or anything else." A can of paint. It's like the worst survival strategist in the world packed his bag. "So I'll be around."

“So you were robbed.” That makes a bit more sense for Tony’s story.

"If I ever set out to begin with." Tony remembers being asleep in his bed, and then…

“Perhaps we should start the exam.” Bruce stands, and walks over to an examination table against a wall in the corner. “Come on, I heard you could have walked here by yourself.” He smiles, waiting to see if Tony really can walk on his own after what happened in the street.

Tony swallows and pushes himself up. That's the part that's difficult. If he's slow and careful he can walk. He leans against the table, looks at Bruce. He doesn't know this man. Sure he seems kind but for all Tony knows, Bruce may cast him out as a witch.  "The thing is, I'm not sure what's keeping me alive. Because it looks to me like I should be dead." He begins to unbutton his shirt. 

The doctor helps him onto the table and waits for Tony to reveal his terrible secret. It’s probably just an ingrown hair, but he can be patient with patients.

Tony takes a deep breath, puffs up his cheeks and pushes the air out. It's fine. It's going to be fine. He unbuttons his shirt, revealing the diamond in his chest as big as his fist.

Bruce stares for a moment. “I’m...guessing that’s new.” He wanders over to a nearby table and rummages around for an attachment for his spectacles. “LIGHTNING!” The outer wall shudders with a great kick, and the horse equivalent of cursing can be heard. “Oh, quit your dramatics.”

Tony watches him quietly, but startles at the sudden dramatics. "Which of you is the drama queen?"

Bruce smiles awkwardly. “Wh--you think it’s me?” There is a horse-like laugh from the doorway. “Hah hah.” Bruce turns to glare at Thor. “This is important. Go get Sam.” Bruce steps aside so that the horse can see Tony’s chest. It backs up and gallops away.

Another person to come stare at his chest? That makes Tony uncomfortable. "Have you--can you get it out?"

“I need a second opinion,” Bruce tells him.

"Didn't think you were suppose to be alive with a stab wound this big," Tony says. At least Bruce didn't freak out. That's important.

“It’s not a stab wound.” Bruce leans forward, examining the gem in Tony’s chest with something like a jeweler’s glass.

_ Then what the fuck is it?  _ Tony sighs. "Can you get it out?"

“Not...without killing you.” It’s not reassuring, but he doesn’t believe in sugar-coating things for adults.

"Good to know. Is it going to kill me anyway?" Tony feels it's best to have all the answers.

The doctor looks thoughtful. “There are much easier ways to kill a man...don’t you think?” This is definitely meant to do something else. “While we wait for Sam, why don’t you tell me what else you remember about yesterday?”

"Yesterday I did a job for a guy, got paid and bought some groceries and supplies. I was going to go...camping in the woods today. Maybe I was robbed."

Bruce nods, thoughtful. “Tell me, do you have any enemies? Someone who would benefit from harming you?”

"There are people out there who'd rather torture and maim a man before they kill him. They call those people sadists, Brucie, and I've met a few."

“But where’s the payoff?” Those sorts like to see the pain they inflict. “Where are they now?”

Tony ponders this, silently. Many people want the Crimson Dynamo dead. But Tony? "Look, sir, I just try and keep my head down."

Bruce looks like he doesn’t believe it. But if Tony doesn’t want to say, he can’t force him.

"Maybe if I figured out who's done this, I'd have some idea.”

“You’d know better than I would,” Bruce points out. But if he can’t remember and he doesn’t want to share...Bruce decides to give him some space. Instead, he stalls for time with idle chit-chat. “Don’t worry about finding a place to stay in Corona without money. Any number of places will take you in here. We’re very hospitable to strangers, especially on Remembrance Day.”

Tony feels relieved. He’d much rather talk about something positive right now. "Do you think you and your house pet could show me around?"

“My…?” Bruce glances around for a pet. “Ah, tonight I have official duties, but tomorrow...if I don’t have too many house calls, I’d be happy to.”  
  
"Tomorrow it is." Official business? Faaaa-ncy! Tony wonders what kind of rich people live in a place like this. "Is this a week-long birthday party or something? I don't wanna miss any of the festivities."

“For us, it’s just today.” Bruce doesn’t say who ‘us’ is. “But the townspeople and the performers, they can often be celebrating for days.”

Tony blinks. "Us? Like the royal family? The courtiers?" Bruce doesn't live like any royal he's met or observed. And he's certainly kinder then any Tony knows. He immediately begins to hatch a plan for how he can accompany Bruce to his ‘official duties’ tonight. Maybe he'll need an...associate. And if he doesn't, Tony's pretty good at disappearing.

Bruce smiles, caught. “Us is...the family. I delivered Prince James myself.”

"No wonder the whole town loves you. This kid must have been some kind of a saint."

Bruce’s smile is self-deprecating. “He was just a boy, energetic and mischievous as any. We almost lost him once before. There was an accident the year before. Maybe that was what made him more dear to all of us.”

_ Saint or an angel. _ Tony sneezes. He has to lean against Bruce for balance, suddenly so dizzy from the pain of shaking the thing. "Ow."

Bruce props Tony up and leans him back carefully to rest against the wall. “I’m no alchemist…” He steps away once he’s sure Tony won’t fall down. “But I think these might help.” He brings over a snuff tin with several small capsules inside. He gives one to Tony, grabbing his tea so that he can wash it down.

Tony watches him warily. What is this sudden mistrust of apothecaries?! "What's in it?"

“St. John’s Wort.” Bruce waits for Tony to swallow it. “To ward off evil.”

Tony waits for a minute for the capsules to take effect. He’s not sure if they changed anything, but he feels well enough for his curiosity to return, at least. "An accident?” Tony cocks his head. “Surely the royal doctor can tell me the story?"

Bruce sighs, pulling over a chair. “It was a hunting accident. Now if you ask me, a boar hunt is no place for a four year old boy. He fell from his horse and the beast charged. Took off most of his arm.” He shakes his head. “There didn’t seem to be anything we could do.”

"But you did something." No wonder he's treated so well.

“Me?” Bruce shakes his head. “I just stabilized him. Even then, things looked bleak. But the boy has a fairy godmother. She’s the one who really saved him.” It had been beyond the limitations of modern science to restore the prince’s arm.

Tony lifts an eyebrow. "A fairy godmother?" That's hard for him to accept. Wasn't Bruce supposed to be a man of science?

Bruce’s brow furrows. “Where did you say you were from again?”

“Contra Costa--” The sound of hooves on cobbles, pounding down the street interrupts them. The giant draft horse comes to a graceless stop outside, and a man with a thin moustache and goatee enters. “Big guy said there was trouble. And you’re late. We were expecting you an hour ago.” He ducks into the shop and keeps going until he sees Tony in the corner. “Oh. Hi.”

Tony waves awkwardly to the man. "Hi." Is he the one who’s supposed to help Bruce get it out?

The doctor waves the newcomer over. “Sam...I need you to take a look at something.” He looks apologetically at Tony. “Someone.”

The man is dressed in expensive fabrics dyed in royal hues. He steps forward gracefully, his keen eye zeroing in on Tony’s chest. “What the--” Sam glances up at Tony. “You piss off any wizards lately?”

"Not that I remember." Tony’s instincts are screaming,  _ Stay away from this guy! He can smell a thief from a mile away.  _

Sam crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I’ll just bet.”

“What do you think?” Bruce asks him. “Sam’s very well-traveled,” he explains to Tony. “He’s seen many different kinds of magic on his journeys.”

“It’s him for sure. Gotta be. I’ve never seen another sorcerer use gems like that.”

“Convenient he’s never here for the holiday,” Bruce says.

“Pretty damn convenient.” The horse whickers behind Sam. “You know, he’s right. We’re gonna be late.”

Bruce glances at Tony, uncertain. “You should have a good view from the town square…” Bruce glances at Sam. “He’s from Contra Costa. Never seen our celebrations before.”

Sam frowns. “That’s not close. Just how lost are you?”

“How far away from home am I?" Tony asks. “More than a day’s travel? I thought it was just the one night I lost. What's the date today?" How long has Tony been out of it?!

“It’s the 17th day of Pisces.” Sam gives him an odd look.

“What day did you go to sleep?” Bruce asks, serious.  

"First day of Pisces." Tony sits back in his dusty chair, shocked. Three weeks of his life taken away. Sam gives Bruce an 'I told you so' look. “I'd like to see a map,” Tony says.

The horse whinnies again, impatient to be off. “Maps later,” Bruce says. “Come on.” He grabs his scarf and heads for the door.

"You're just going to leave me alone with the pony?" No, no, uh-uh. Why is he being left alone? That's no way to find a job. A fancy ceremony on the other hand...besides he's not going to steal from a nice old guy like Bruce. That's not his bag.

“Oh, he’s not staying behind,” Sam says. Thor snorts, offended at the suggestion that he would be left in his stall on today of all days.

Tony nods. This is fine. He'd much rather go then stay in stasis. He pushes himself to his feet and follows them. "So. A fairy godmother  _ and _ an evil wizard? Come on." This is ridiculous. "Tell me more."

Sam raises an eyebrow. “This is no bedtime story.”

Bruce sighs. “Come on. I’ll tell you what I can on the way.” Sam gives him a look, but walks back to the street, where he sets a fast pace for the castle at the center of the city.  

Well, great. Maybe he'll walk fast enough that they won't be heard. Tony limps along next to Bruce, trying to breathe deep enough to keep going steady.  "So is he some kind of wizard expert or something?"

Seeing Tony struggle, Bruce stops, calling the horse. “Thor!” The horse gives him a suspicious look. “Would you mind? I know it’s an imposition.” The horse sighs and kneels down for Tony to climb on.

Tony gives him an equally suspicious look. "Sorry, magic horse. I'm not into this either."

The horse blows out a puff of air, ruffling his bangs.

Tony clambers on, feeling ridiculous and not looking Thor in the eye. Then feeling twice as ridiculous because it's a horse. "We don't have-" Magic. "That kind of thing where I'm from." He's awfully tall now. Precarious. That's the word.

"Really?" Bruce looks intrigued. "How strange."

Thor stands up, helping Tony stay balanced, and starts off again.

"You're telling me,” Tony says. “You're a man of science. Doesn't the magic thing...bother you?"

“No,” Bruce says simply. “Magic is part of my experience. Just because I don’t yet have a scientific explanation for it doesn’t mean I can’t accept the evidence before my eyes. Faery magic saved that little boy’s life. I have no complaint with it.”

"It wasn't part of mine. You're going to have to walk me through it, then, because I'm not sure I can buy it." He hopes that's not offensive. He likes Bruce.

Bruce chuckles. “Let’s see how you feel once we get there.” And then, after a moment...“You know, if you haven't eaten for three weeks, that could explain your weakened state." He veers off toward a candied almond vendor and comes back with a warm fragrant parcel. "Here," he tells Tony, thrusting it into his hand. "Eat."

Sugar. Tony looks at it like it's a long lost love and then turns his wide brown eyes to Bruce. "Bless you, doctor."

Bruce chuckles. “You won’t be saying that when the barber gets hold of those rotting teeth in a few years.”

Tony shrugs. The nuts are a luxury he tries to keep a luxury. Because well. That's what tends to happen when you aren't a royal anymore: you're poor.

They walk across a series of bridges, each taking them closer to the modest castle, flying colorful flags from every turret. As they walk through the gates, Thor snorts and shakes his head at a guard who’s examining Tony very closely. “It’s okay, Brock,” Bruce says. “He’s with us.”

Tony smirks and gives the man a cheeky wave. He may look like a homeless scoundrel but he's with them.

They walk through the gates and the outer courtyard, where there is still much hustle and bustle, up a ramp to a neat garden with a perfect view of the entire city. Three girls are the only noble occupants of the garden. One sits on a stone bench, reading a thick tome taller than her forearm. The other runs giggling through the grass with her dress coming off, and is being chased by a gaggle of maids. And the last, the eldest, is leaning on the wall overlooking the city. Her back is to them, but she has long black hair in a thick plait down her back.

Thor nearly bucks Tony off his back in his hurry to get to the little one. “What treatise is it today?” Sam asks the one reading, sitting down next to her on the bench.

“I’ll go help George with the queen,” Bruce says apologetically, disappearing into the castle. At the back of the garden, servants are struggling with a controlled flame, inflating paper lanterns and placing them into a floating net.  

And with that, Tony’s alone. Free to find something to occupy himself. Oh dear. Whatever shall he do? He watches the horse and the little girl for a moment, making sure the guard is occupied as well.  

Thor is whinnying furiously, rolling around the carefully-cut grass with the little princess, who’s making snow angels on the lawn.

It wouldn’t do for a dirty, bedraggled, and--apparently-- cursed peasant to speak to a noble woman.  Tony has no right to speak to a princess. And yet...he quietly makes his way over to the eldest princess on the wall, almost hypnotized by her long, dark hair. Something is begging him to touch it. He longs for it, despite knowing better and despite the fact he would like to keep his hands attached to his body.

“That’s quite a view.” No, he’s not looking at her. Hasn’t even glanced her way.

“It’ll be even better once we release the lanterns.” She turns, offering him a dimpled smile. “Oh. Are you...lost?”

“Oh.” He blinks at her. Pretty. Much prettier than expected. “What? Yeah. You could say that I was, yes. That’s not important. I’m supposed to be here. I came with him.” Tony points at the horse.

“Oh?” She glances over at the two playing in the grass. “How do you know Thor?”

“I met with doctor, um-“ Why is he acting like such an idiot?! “-doctor... Bruce. I came with Bruce.” No. His dreams of courting a crown princess have been dashed. She’s not going to want to look at him twice, now. And he doesn’t even know her name.

“Oh, are you the doctor’s new assistant? The last one blew up. Or was he the one caught on fire…?” She puts a finger to her chin, thinking.

“Yes...” Sure, let’s pretend. “I’m Tony. The doctor’s new assistant.” He holds out a hand to her. He’s not nearly as clean as he would like, but maybe he’s still handsome enough.

“Er…” The royal family of Corona is pretty casual compared to other royal families, but not quite  _ this _ casual. Kate hesitates for only a split-second before offering Tony a polite curtsey. “Hello, Tony.” She doesn’t need to introduce herself...right?

She hesitates and Tony thinks he’s lost it. He’ll be clapped in irons before he can say ‘too forward’, but no. He clasps his hands behind his back and nods to the servants. “What are they doing?” Her dark hair and light eyes...it’s a brilliant combination.

Kate turns to lean back against the wall. “They’re preparing for the ceremony.” Her smile turns sad. “It’s our brother’s birthday.” Bruce reappears, leading a middle-aged woman who looks like she can barely walk. She’s dressed in finery and wearing a jeweled tiara. Sam stands and walks over to the two of them.  

Tony watches the princess. Is she going to stay here or do introductions need to be made?

Kate steps away from the wall, but not to make introductions. “Rebecca! Patricia! Come along, don’t tax mother when she’s come outside.” The little one hops up, her dress thoroughly grass-stained and the one reading puts her book down and joins her sisters.

What’s wrong with her mother, Tony wonders, wistful.

Bruce escorts the queen up a special platform for the ceremony. Once she’s settled, the king emerges from the castle. His escorts seem more for balance than circumstance.

“I’ve heard a little bit about this,” Tony offers, following the princesses. “The town’s done up beautifully. The boy must have been very dear.”

“They always are.” Princess Kate’s expression is resigned, maybe a little jealous.

When they reach the dais, Tony takes a step back. No nobleman wants his daughter next to a dirty peasant--not that this man looks like he cares about anything but his drink.

The eldest looks down at the youngest princess. “Do you want to do the first lantern this year? It looks like father’s had too much wine.”

“Can I set it on fire?” Princess Patti asks, excitedly.

Tony hangs back. He has no business being here in the first place, but he has to laugh at the eager way she says it.  _ She must be trouble. _

“No,” Kate laughs. In the end, it’s the queen who sends the first one, lighting the candle that will keep the lantern floating and then collapsing against Bruce. While Kate steps forward to send hers--a gold-patterned pink lantern, Sam wanders over to stand next to Tony. There are mostly just servants here, the nobles of the city staying home where they have better views from their mansions. Once the first lantern is gone, more plain paper lanterns are released all over the city by townspeople.

“Pretty intense, huh?” Sam comments, watching the swarm of lanterns go sailing into the sunset.

“Stunning.” But there’s a lot that’s stunning about this place. “And sad. I can’t imagine that kind of loss.” Tony knows nothing about the boy that was lost, and still he’s deeply saddened. It’s threatening to engulf him, and he’s not quite sure why.

Sam shakes his head. “As a parent...I can’t imagine. I’m not sure I’d bear up as well as they’re doing.”

“I’m curious though. Bruce said he’d be 25 today. How long has he been gone? What happened to him?” Why does his chest ache? It can’t be a side effect of the gem. It’s too much like heartache.

Sam takes a deep breath. “He’s been gone...I guess it’s 18 years now. As I heard it, the king took him out hunting one day, you know, try to make a man of him. The king came back, but Prince James never did.” He shrugs. “Some say he became separated from the hunting party, and something foul happened. Others that he was killed by accident and someone tried to cover it up. But I don’t believe it. That boy was blessed. A little too blessed, if you know what I mean.”

Tony leans forward, chin in his hand. “What do you think happened?” How important is this guy? 

“You meet the royal wizard, and you tell me.” Sam takes a step toward the royal family. “Who knows, you might even see him tonight. But I doubt it.” He walks toward the dais to send off his own lantern. “Come on. Everyone gets to send one.” He gestures for Tony to follow.

Court intrigue, murder, and a missing prince. Feels like he’s stuck inside a drama. Tony follows Sam, intrigued, and lights his own lantern. It’s cold tonight, and he wishes for a warm body to lay next to. A distraction from the ache in his chest. He looks longingly at the princess.

Once the royal lanterns have all been sent, servants prepare a picnic dinner in the garden. A long table is brought out with chairs for everyone. Bruce waves Tony over to sit next to him. They eat in silence, the royal family acting like they’re at the saddest birthday party ever. All except the youngest, who’s somehow smuggled a frog in, hidden in her dress.

Bored. Is this why Tony ran away from the good life? That was definitely part of it. As hard as he tries, he can’t keep quiet. “Can I pet your frog?”

Princess Patti is in the midst of a rip-roaring fight with the staff (and her father) about whether she gets to keep her frog or not. “Here!” She tosses the frog across the table to Tony, shouting, “FREEDOM!”

Whoops. Is he an enemy of the crown now? Tony dives to catch it so it doesn’t land on anyone’s plate and—of course--it pees on him, because the day can always get worse. He sets the poor traumatized frog on the bench next to him and wipes off his hands.

Several servants come rushing around the table to take the frog away. “Noooooooooo!” the little princess screams. Piped notes fill the air, and the frog lifts from the bench, encased in a glowing bubble. As the jaunty tune continues, the frog floats out of the servants’ grasping hands and back across the table to kiss Patti goodbye. She covers her mouth with both hands, amazed. Then the frog floats away to the nearest pond, Sam ending his tune once the frog is safe and sound. Patti cheers and claps, and the other two princesses join in. Bruce smiles, also applauding.

That was his thunder stolen. Tony leans back astounded. He turns to Bruce, eyes wide. “How’s that done?”

Bruce laughs. “What, now you believe?” His eyes are twinkling. Maybe he should have stopped two ales ago.

Now that Tony’s seen it on his own, yes. “Who can teach me? Can he teach me?” He’ll ask Sam, even though he’s rather intimidating and thinks Tony’s a thief.  Correctly, but still.

Bruce laughs again. “If I knew how it worked, we couldn’t call it magic anymore.” Sam tucks his panpipes away, winking at Tony.

“Floating frogs are a lot harder to explain than backwards stab wounds!” Tony says.

Bruce just looks confused. He drinks more ale. That will help.

“I like to imagine Sam’s country is full of such lovely music,” Kate smiles. “Perhaps I’ll see for myself someday.”

Yes!!! Yes, now Tony  _ wants _ to learn it!

“That’s a promise, your highness.” Sam raises a glass to her.

Tony glances at the princess. “You can take me with you; I’m a very cheap escort.” Too much. Why is he always too much?

Kate giggles behind her napkin, embarrassed. “Who is this?” the king asks Sam and Bruce, blunt.

“Ah, this is Tony,” Bruce says. “My...guest. From Contra Costa.”

“Can I see your pipes?” Tony asks Sam. Maybe if he can make one...

“No you may not. If an enchanter lets you handle his tools…” Sam’s about to say something, but thinks better of it, looking at the girls. “Something is...off.”

“Can you teach me?” Tony asks him.

Sam offers a lopsided grin. “If you want to be my apprentice, son, you have to earn it.”

The evening continues with Tony glued to Sam’s side, fascinated by the strange magic.  Maybe he can make his own enchanted objects. He tries not to make too much a fool of himself in front of the princess and manages to not find himself clapped in irons either.

By the end of the night, Patti is eyeing him as a potential accomplice and Kate’s dimpled smile makes one last appearance before she says goodnight, lingering a little too long for her governess’ liking.

After following Bruce home, (or rather limping after him) Tony’s allowed to stay in the barn with the horse. He’s seen how much room the doctor has, and it’s not much. And though it’s gross and smelly, he’s lived in worse, so Tony’s grateful for the shelter.

Thor shares his stable with Tony, but he’s clearly not happy about it, kicking the stall door whenever he sees Tony starting to fall asleep.

In the morning, it’s time for Bruce to decide what to do with him. He can’t very well leave with his injury the way it is. Tony doesn’t want to leave, anyway. For the first time in a very long time, he’s found a place that suits him.

Bruce shares his meager breakfast with Tony. Oatmeal made in a beaker isn’t exactly how mom used to make, but it’s filling. “How are you feeling today?”

Exhausted.  _ Bloody horse _ . “I’m not going to be doing any heavy lifting or winning any races, but breathing is a bit easier.”

Bruce nods. He reaches back to one of the work benches, handing Tony a packet of powder. “This is a muscle relaxer. It should make that even better.”

This man. Kind. Intelligent. Not the best cook. “Any idea how to get the thing out of me?”

“Without surgery? No.” He adjusts his glasses. “I think we’d better leave that part to Sam.”

Tony mixes the powder in the runny oatmeal and tucks in. “What’s he do, anyway? I thought he was one of the royal guard but the thing with the frog makes me think differently.”

Bruce nearly snorts his tea. “Well, he’s royal. A prince in his own right. But he’s the youngest of his brothers, which gives him the freedom to travel. He’s studied many types of magic and has seen even more.”

“Do you think he can teach me--anything. I’m willing to learn anything.” A prince?!

“I’m sure there’s a lot he could teach you. But if he would...that’s something else. I’ve never heard of a prince taking on an apprentice.” Bruce hates to keep dashing Tony’s hopes like this.

Prince. Right. “I’ve never heard of such royalty. To interact with commoners like either of us.” He has no hope.

Bruce smiles. “I think he enjoys blending in a little. Not every magician is a royal wizard, you know.”

“And what about the oldest princess? Is she adept at magic, too?” He asks casually, scraping shapes in to the bottom of his cup of runny oatmeal.

“Princess Kathleen?” Bruce smiles. “No one in this kingdom works magic except the royal wizard.” He sips his oatmeal, getting it confused for his tea. “The king has gotten a score of offers for her hand already, and she’s not yet marriageable age.” Bruce looks away. “In...case you were wondering.”

She wouldn’t want someone like him. And it’s not up to her anyway. “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t want the stress of running a kingdom anyway.” He smiles, gives Bruce a wink. “There is something about her, though.” Like he’s seen her before. Like he knows her. But that’s impossible.

Bruce looks back at Tony.  _ Poor kid. “ _ I think we’ve all felt like that at some point in our lives.” He sighs, standing up. “Well, I’ve gotta get to work. I think you’re stuck here while Sam works out your curse. Want to make yourself useful in the meantime?”

“As in you’re giving me a job?” Tony would trade in a life of “adventure” (i.e. living hand to mouth) for staying and helping Bruce out in a heartbeat.

Bruce smiles kindly. “Well, let’s see how you do, first. You might hate it…” He walks over to one of his brewing apparatuses, adjusting the dials and checking the distillation. “Make sure this stays at a steady 80 degrees while I’m gone, and I’ll show you the next step in the process when I get back.” And with that, Tony finds himself with a new home, and a new job.  


End file.
